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| This made me laugh. Preparing for the fifth and sixth big moves for us or others in the space of two years, I can relate. |
lifting, packing, planning,
pulling out my hair is not an option
but you can bet that I will get a drink
or two along the way to smooth
the wrinkles in the road. I like it here,
it's small and cozy. All the things
that I like best around me fit just fine.
Decision isn't mine to leave but
logical enough to gain my tacit acquiescence,
redundancy to underscore the
undertones of something kin to sadness
that I feel. Sheer magnitude of task
ahead is daunting but I'm haunted by
the hope of something altogether
new and different than what's written
in the plans that other folks have made.
My life is in his hands, his purposes
beyond what I could guess and so
I'll sing and smile and work agreeably
until the mess is gone, and I am settled
in somewhere that's just another
stepping stone to where I'll be one day,
somewhere that I will stay because
it's perfect, not because of its address
or furnishings but rather that it's
filled, immersed, surrounded by such love
that no one who has tasted it could
bring themselves to say goodbye.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013
There is an old Jim Reeves song that says "This world is not my home, I'm just a-passing through, My treasures are laid up, Somewhere beyond the blue. The angels beckon me from heaven's open door and I can't feel at home in this world any more." There is a sense that Christians look ahead to eternity, to their heavenly and eventual destination, reunited with loved ones as we believe we will experience. But I also believe in creating a home on earth that is filled with peace, and love, and joy.
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