Spring break has come to an end for daughter Debbie. It’s gone too fast. Again.
She’s back in Tennessee. The land of clouds and gray. Leaving the sunshine state wasn’t her preference. Especially since going back is all about her academic pursuits.
She’s pretty perturbed with that pursuit. Thank goodness she’s almost done.
Being her mom, and operating out of ridiculously high expectations that rarely, if ever, are met, I expected it to be a space of sanctuary for Deb. That home would be a refuge. An opportunity to refuel and refresh before giving her best shot to end her last semester of her college career.
Not so much.
But we enjoyed her.
She grabbed rest when she could. But between activities and people, there was family.
And everyone wanted Debbie-time.
As much as I wanted this to be a restful time for her, I knew that was pie-in-the-sky thinking. She gets around her nieces and nephews and they think she’s one of them. Just a little taller. Whether it’s kicking around a soccer ball or sharing a cinnamon roll, she’s right in there with them.
Isn’t that what home is? Lives shared with all the sweetness and stickiness. Lives tangled like the cord on my blow dryer. Lives lived together.
I think about the idea of home a lot. About the one where I grew up. About the one John and I have established for our family. Have there been disappointments along the way? You betcha. Are there times I long for a redo? Absolutely. John and I have joked about the dream gift we’d have loved to give each of our kids when they graduated from college–six months of counseling to help them unpack the baggage we so thoughtfully helped them pack. In our home.
What do I want to come home to? Calm. Peace. A place where I’m known and loved. A safe place. Somewhere that stays the same even though my reality is always changing. Somewhere I know I’m accepted no matter what I do. No matter what mistakes or foolish choices I’ve made.
Idyllic. Not really possible. This side of heaven.
During their final time alone with Jesus before He was arrested, He told them He’d be betrayed. By one of them. Not a happy home atmosphere. Even though He knew the suffering that was ahead for Him, He consoled them.
“Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust also in Me. There is more than enough room in My Father’s home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? When everything is ready, I will come and get you, so that you will ALWAYS be with Me where I am.” John 14:1-3
The home we all long for is the home Jesus has prepared for us. With Him forever. In relationship with Him. Heaven.
That’s where His family will be.
And I’m thrilled to be part of it.
What about you?