Monday, December 19, 2011

Thoughts on Home :: How the Pieces Become Whole {part 2~the present}

sunset, souderton parade, around the house 081And so it is that home finds me now.  As I walk in these days where all that is static and mine in the material is being released and yet the vision beckons.  What will you do with me now?  I hear her say in the gentle voice of a friend with a touch of mirth letting in on a surprise that’s coming.

And this present journey has been just that. A secret kept from she who fully plants her heart in a home that can be touched and tasted and decorated and dusted, yet revealed to those who are willing to dream beyond what is and look to what comes on the other side.

And that, my friends, is worth every bit of a long and tiring journey.

You see, the secret is that all that we ever love of home is truly never lost.  The pieces of my life, my home, form the deepest fibers of my being.  They have borne the grief of losing all that I thought they were and have shown themselves made of the eternal.

Nearly ten years ago, when my mother went Home to Jesus, I lost every physical sense of home that I had depended upon for so long.  I spent time running away from what I misjudged it to be only to find in the end, that it was unbearable to lose such a mother, such a home, such a place of formisunset, souderton parade, around the house 101ng and belonging that can never be re-created in its constant, abiding, extending-from-the- womb, carrying-so-the-woman-be-formed-in-me love.

And as I have grieved the fragments of memory and the pieces so far from whole that remain in my four siblings and father and me, I have learned what Home is.

By stopping the running when it hurts the most to stay, I have come to know what I could not know anywhere else.  By allowing the questions and the angst and the sadness of what is gone to reach the deep places, I have learned a coming Home to the only Love that is really present in all of our moments.

And I have learned to know the love of the Abba Father God in a way that makes the eternal touches of my mother’s love more present than they have ever been.  It is a mystery given to those who grieve in hope.  It is an acceptance of the in-part that guides our longing to be fully known.  And it is a living with some part of us here in time and space and another that begs for and is met with glimpses of eternity.

And when the Divine sieve reveals the true pieces of home, it is how those fragments that remain become a whole.  Bound by the mortar of the in-between, we allow the Spirit to make us whole through the realities of the here and now transfixed by the heavenly joys to come, and we rise resilient, full of the secret joy of Home. 

sunset, souderton parade, around the house 074

So when I look at the sunset over this ridge where just a few miles north lies my mother’s grave, I see not what is gone, but what I possess within of a Love that defines all that I am.  A love that honors that mother and a love that has the strength to come home still and be present with what I’ve lost even as I am formed by the hope of all I have yet to find.

{I’m rounding out 2011 with a weekly series:: Thoughts on Home.  Home was my word for 2011 and the choice was full of irony and searching.  I am sharing that story here along with the priceless lessons I have gained.  Go here to read the introduction to the series and here to read Part 1 ~ the Past}





imperfect prose


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