So, being home has been overwhelmingly wonderful. OVERWHELMINGLY. There's almost too many securities here.
|Note the White Blur running to the house. :)|
We drove in the drive way,everything was perfectly green...I don't wait long to exit and then I come in the house : THE KITCHEN! It's so cozy, wonderful, and large. (In comparison to our kitchen/bedroom for four in the motor home. My brothers think it very convenient that I sleep in the kitchen, since they think that's where women should be. [Part joke part truth] When I point out that they too are in the kitchen they claim they're actually at the table waiting for the food. Yyeeaaah....) Then, with sister at toe I run down the stairs and leap onto the bed with a shriek of joy. Sister is highly sentimental along with me and hops on, hugging and making noises of delight. I'm laughing with joy at this point, and sister's still hugging (Can you guess her love language?) then all at once, when I thought of all the securities that were absent, all the people that were met, all the nights spent in Wall Mart parking lots, days spent driving through many varieties of scenery, the eight weeks of living in forty feet with seven loved ones, and how I thought it was absolute sweetness at the time, came crashing in and I realized how much I much I missed the things that make home...home. All these thoughts going on; then, in the mists of my laughter I began to cry. It's the closest thing to Heaven I've ever experienced. Here on earth we gladly serve our King, we live with pain, imperfections, and the things that make us vunerable. We accept these things, try to live it best we can and only by His grace; but when we get to Heaven...oh...all things perfect, all things true, all things that make us entirely at home shall be there: perfection. This is how I felt! I gladly serve on the road, consider it the highest honor and try to live it to the fullest by His grace...and then home feels like Heaven: peace, rest, love, joy, and comfort. Ever since we've been home I've wanted to use the word "Perfect" to describe life here, but I refuse to let myself since I know nothing on earth is perfect. So,if for no other reason the Lord gives us a home so as to glimpse the perfection of Heaven.
That whole night I could have burst into tears over playing the piano or sorting through the mail, and then get all excited about unloading the dishwasher. Lord, let me never complain again about dishwasher duty. It's rather precious just because it calls for routine; a word little acted upon while on the road.
Let me say that these tears-bursting were not ones of sorrow or weariness, but of joy and gratitude. I remember, while on the trip, many times thinking how entirely blessed I am and how wonderful this road life is.It was the best at that time, almost up to the very end I was hardly missing home. (Though I could feel the desire coming, and there were times of weariness...they didn't last.) I almost had to pinch myself that I wasn't feeling entirely worn out. I was literally riding on the grace of God. Because, within minutes of arriving home I thought back to those moments when I thought life couldn't get better then this road life, and then I thought "How could I think that? Home is way better!" (Though I know that was a whim-thought and not true at all.) I should have been horribly tired of it and longing for home. But I wasn't. It was beautiful; it was the grace of God. God always gives grace when we need it, and as soon as I got home I didn't need His "traveling grace" but switched to a rather low-maintenance "home grace" and thus began to cry because looking in retrospect one can hardly imagine how it all took place and how one could do it and enjoy it all the while. And then suddenly being surrounded with all the things that make a person feel secure was a bit overwhelming. Wonderfully so. Thanks be to Jesus for His grace on the road and His faithful grace during season of rest and refreshment. I am entirely grateful that I can experience both.
I say of a truth, I knew God like I never did before on this trip, my faith was mightily increased, my trust and contentment repaired, and appetite for adventure duley satisfied.
Praise be the Lord.
P.S. I'm not sure how I'm going to finish up western tour pictures since I only led you half-way through. I may do a slide show, but don't know if that will actually happen...I dream of such things as taking time for a Western Miller Movie. So, do stand by. No...never mind...don't do that. Something will happen sometime...I hope. Also this has been "returned home" with Deborah, and there are seven of us, with each having different perspectives, so you only got 1/7 of the story.