There is something about the growing up experience that leads you back to where you started.
Not necessarily with your parents. Not exactly at the place of your birth.
Just the sense that however big and independent you get, whatever material possessions you gain and lose, there is something of far greater worth.
Every so often you might come across a few people. There’s a connection somehow and that’s a good enough reason for rapport to be built. From the rapport comes some meaningful engagements. Before long there’s a bond and a genuine enjoyment of each other’s company. However much times change, the bond remains when there’s a memory of what each brings to the table.
In those times of being together and sharing that camaraderie, something can be experienced that’s more than just casual friendship. It’s just like you’ve found a home.
Those experiences, those glimpses of what it can be to truly be not as an individual entity doing your own thing, but remembering once more that you are a relational being. You are made not just to be but to belong. That belonging is about those beautiful ingredients that makes a home – work, tension, disagreement, arguments, resolutions, understandings, compassion, sympathy, laughter, fun, food, fellowship, love and harmony.
Sure, life can be busy, it really can appear relentless. We are living it though, in the hope and the knowledge that however grown up we become, there is still a way we can find home with each other.
(Photo by Allen Taylor on Unsplash)
For His Name’s Sake
Shalom
C. L. J. Dryden
Life With CD 