Time To Go Home
I live in a small cottage—at least, that’s what the builder calls my particular home style. I live in a three-bedroom, two-bath home in the burbs—but a cottage still. This home has seen highs and lows in my life and has been a place of refuge and peaceful calm against the storms.
Just this week, my home welcomed me from work late at night, shining its light as a beacon in the dark.
The eerie morning fog enveloped it until the sunshine burned it off to reveal a glorious day.
The not-too-distant train whistle reminds me I live at the intersection of city and country.
In the past four years, so much life has happened in this home. In the last few weeks alone, I have finished writing a book, listed my home for sale, scheduled house showings and work for the month ahead, began organizing my next book to write, packed box after box, published articles, performed my last acoustic duo shows here, visited with friends, and more. I’ve been busy.
But now, it’s time to go and move into the next phase of life. It is time to leave this exile experience. It is finally time to go home. If you could hear the deep exhale I just released, you might begin to understand how long I’ve been holding my breath. It’s been years.
I want to appreciate all God did while I was here but focus on going, not leaving.
I read the following quote in a book long ago and added it to my journal because it touched me deeply. I wish I could remember the author.
“I know I’m not the kid I was when I lived here before, but I think I can
take the best parts of her and move forward.”
I’m taking the best parts of me—the ones that have gone through fire and emerged a bit singed but strong—and I’m going forward. I’m not wasting the lessons learned or pain endured. I’m also remembering the good and bringing it with me. Those banks of good memories might be a bit lighter from recent years, but I’m focusing on the highlights.
The best parts of me are still evident, loved, valued, and needed as I build the next phase of my life. I’m hopeful for what lies in front of me.
Nothing we endure is wasted by our loving God. He makes a way forward, clearing what needs to be removed and creating a way to go home. Much of the path will be curvy and uphill because we live in a sinful world. But He is gracious and merciful, and we will find ourselves standing on the other side of what seemed impossible.
He will meet us there.
