Mom,
I have attached the post I wrote about going home here. ( I Want To Go Home ) I went back and looked at it after you remarked that you failed once again as a mother. I wanted to see what I said, or how I worded it that would give that impression.
When I write, I do so to evoke a response from people. I want people to think about their own lives. I want people to reflect on how they live, what they do, how they treat others, and how they treat themselves. I want them to feel emotion. And that includes sorrow, love, happiness, sadness, anger, joy, and so on.
So when I write, it is not so much for judgment or criticism of my life or that of others as it is to call others to judge and critique their own lives through my words.
In this piece, the question is at the end. “I would like to go home. Do you know where that is and how I can get there?” The question is metaphorical in nature.
If I want to go, then I need to know where home is and the way to get home. But home may not be found in this life or on this planet.
Perhaps home is in the Kingdom to come. Perhaps only when we enter into the eternal Kingdom of God will we truly “be home”. Perhaps home in this world is never complete, only temporary, thus creating the longing to go home.
So often we find ourselves locked into the idea that home must be a physical place, with an address and mail delivery, phone service and utilities, family, children, friends gathered near by. It is a place where we have all of our stuff under one roof.
But what if home is something different. Can a homeless person experience “home” living on the streets, in a box, more than I can living in a comfortable building? Can a soldier experience “home” in a tent on the battlefield rather than in a warm bed in Detroit?
So the question: Where is home and how do I get there?
Home will mean many different things to many different people. For me, home is knowing that I have people who love me, who would like me to be in their lives. Home is knowing that I have value and worth, not assigned by others, but assigned by me. Home is knowing that I am welcomed by friends and family at various times and places. Home is being comfortable with who I am and in my own solitude. Home is found for me in the presence of God, both now, and eternally.
I am not upset or angry with you and Dad for what happened so many years ago. That time in our lives was part of life that helped to inform and mold me into who I am today. And I am very proud of who I am. I like me.
The experiences of the past have only helped me become me. And the person I am today is truly “at home” in her body and life, looking to the day when I shall ultimately “be home” in the eternal presence of my Heavenly Father.
I learned a long time ago to live with shallow tent pegs, as Abraham did. I can “pull up stake” at a moments notice and move to the where God leads if I need to. So today, for me, home is wherever I am at the present moment, living in expectation of God’s wonderful call to go to the next place, for the next assignment, for the next adventure.
And if the call says to “come home”, I do know where that is, and I know how to get there. It is just through the gate, and up the path in the woods. Once you round the bend over the small rise, you will see a garden bench on your right. From there, it is just a short walk to the front door.
I know you are coming along as well, Mother, and the journey will be beyond your wildest dreams and hopes. Trust me on this.
I do not see you and Father as failures in my life. I do not see you as disappointments or inadequate as parents. I see you both as two people who lived the best they knew how, did what the knew to do, accomplished what they were able to accomplish, raised two children who turned out to be fairly successful, although a bit eccentric in some ways. But that is no different than any other family.
You did exactly what God called you to do when I was born. I was only on loan to you from God for the duration of my childhood, according to my Father. You cared for me as you knew how and were able. You gave me experiences that helped form into the person I am today. You kept me fairly safe from life’s dangers. At least as safe as any parent could have. And then you let me go to become what God had called me to be. What more could be expected?
So please do not continue to see yourself as a failure or to feel sorry for what you did, or did not do. Instead, lay down all the regrets, sorrows, heart aches, failures, disappointments and tragedies of the past. Lay down your concerns for good health and prosperity and riches. Focus on the wonderful life you have had, and continue to have.
Mother, it truly has been an exciting adventure for all of us, and well worth the living, even with the “not-so-good” moments.
I love you. And I thank you for helping me to be me, through the experiences of our life together. And I thank you that you have set me free over the years to go on to my own adventures, even with my own heart aches, failures, and disappointments.
All of this to say, I know where home is, how to get there, and it is NOT at 17 East Lincoln Ave.
Love,
Abigail
