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.
~Deborah
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.
beautiful, oh so beautiful post. loved it dearest Deborah. thanks for writing. your style....so lovely, so poetic, so fresh and authentic. so you! I love to hear your heart and soul spilled out through words. yes, I would love to see more pictures, but I do know how life is. oh yes i do. as evidenced by the fact that we haven't had contact in how long? keep being amazed at His goodness, refreshed by His love, in awe of His grace.
ReplyDeletemy love,
a certain summer sanguine.