Coming home . . .

It’s 7 (something) a.m. and I’m sitting (semi-reclining) in my chair on the deck in our backyard in Wilmore. I’m still in my pajamas with two little blankets cozying my early morning repose–love this privacy! The birds are making a cacophony of music and noise. Light filters through the leaves of our trees. The geraniums, vincas, marigolds, petunias, and lobelia that I planted just two weeks ago welcome me in profusion. The very green grass rolls out in a carpet before me.

I am home. Tears come to my eyes. I’m so tired. And I’m pretty confused. So much good, and yet how do I make sense of all this transition? Where do I belong? We are so blessed by the love of so many. Many have opened their arms and hearts to include us in their worlds. If only I could draw them to myself and include them as part of this place and this moment. But I cannot.

Is there anything more powerful and more beautiful than love? Many live life with only tiny tastes of this most wonderful elixir. But, not I. God has chosen to fill my cup to overflowing; I am thankful. And yet, somehow, my greedy self feels just a bit “hardly done by.” Oh, my! How do I make sense of all this?. . . jt

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3 Responses to Coming home . . .

  1. Yan Chan says:

    Hi Joyce,

    I just learnt from Jane that you posted these beautiful pictures! Wow! I still don’t know how to do that yet! Please do more and also include your pretty face too. Knowing it’s not fun being in the transition period, pray that both of you are strong and patient enough to hang in there, deal with it and always have faith & hope that it’ll be over soon.

    Stay strong and healthy. I believe tomorrow will be better and brighter cos’ the Son is shining upon us.

    yan 🙂

  2. Adriel Driver says:

    Oh Joyce, reading this makes me long to join you in your beautiful sanctuary of a yard, for a chat and some tea. (Iced tea, that is!) It sounds like you’re feeling those aches for heaven – the ones I feel whenever I REALLY miss friends or family who are far away. . . I try to remind myself that it’s a sign that this life/this world is NOT our final home, and somehow it encourages me a bit. Thankfully our final home is not only in God’s presence, but perhaps also in the presence of the people and aspects of life that we most love from the various stages/places of our life?

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