This was a guest post I did for my church
However
For all my Beautiful Mercy Sisters
I cannot shake the feeling like I need to post this on here
A thought that someone needs to read this
However
For all my Beautiful Mercy Sisters
I cannot shake the feeling like I need to post this on here
A thought that someone needs to read this
Home
I remember listening to a Pastor preaching a sermon on HOME. Telling his childhood recollections of
HOME being his very favourite place on earth. HOME was the safest place to be fully and completely
himself, fully and completely loved.
He could walk through the door, let loose, take his shoes off, maybe
undo a his belt a notch, put his feet up, relax, and let all the cares of the
outside world roll off his shoulders.
As I listened, I remember laughing (until my stomach
hurt) at his hilarious childhood stories of
HOME, but at the same time, deep down in my heart, feeling really sad because it had been a long time since
I had experienced HOME like that.
Sometimes our childhood experiences of walking through the front door of HOME were quite different. I know it was not always my favourite place on earth. There were times when I walked
through my front door slowly, worrying what I might walk into. Wondering if it would be a good night
or a bad one. Instead of letting
loose, putting my feet up and relaxing, there were days and years when being HOME meant more stress than being anywhere else.
I remember this Pastor telling us how he could hardly stand
the excitement, waiting to get HOME for the holidays.
I’m not quite feeling
that same longing of his, this year
I have to tell you, though, last Sunday, Trevor and I were
racing out the door with 15 minutes to get to church (I take full
responsibility for the rush as I
was having a dilemma between two equally wonderful pairs of shoes…. This small
choice of shoes had become a life or death decision…)
Anyway, I was getting unusually annoyed as we made our way down Deerfoot, getting
stuck behind Mr. Slowy-McSlowerson in the Civic, then hitting every single red
light on Anderson… Seriously! (Usually I am the more diplomatic one on the
road… “Trevor, I’m sure that man just cut us off because his wife is in labour,
and they are en route to the hospital!”)
Not today, I am on the edge of my seat, keeping my fingers
squeezed tightly in a ball, to endure one doesn’t find its way out to wave at
Mr. McSlowerson as we finally blow past him. (Maybe I shouldn’t have shared
that part.)
As we pull into the parking lot, I open my door… before the
truck has come to a complete stop (I know! What is with me today??)
I jump out, slightly stumbling to find
my footing on the still moving ground (Okay, that part is a joke. I’m
not that crazy)
I do, however, bolt for the church door, calling over my shoulder
to Trev
“ I’m going to run, babe. I’ll save you a spot!”
“Okay”, he yells
back, cramming the rest of a pancake in his mouth
I open the front door to hear the band already in symphony,
accompanied by the beautiful sound of many voices.
I turn the corner, see that
the house is jam-packed full.
I linger in the doorway and breathe in the
warm presence that fills the atmosphere.
Spotting some empty seats, I briskly squeeze my way into the row, rip
off my coat, chuck my purse under the chair, and without even having to think,
my arms fall up in the air, as all the burdens from my week roll off onto the
ground.
The corners of my mouth
begin to do this strange curving thing, and before I know it….. Ha Ha! I’m smiling, and clapping!
My body is swaying with a mind of its own, and I’m
suddenly bumping into the shoulders of both people on either side as the music
takes over and I move from side to side. (Yes, I am that person! Is it just
me, or is it absolutely torturous to be sardined in the middle of a row during
worship!)
In this moment, it all becomes clear to me.
All the angst, I was feeling on the
drive to church.
All the frustration with Slowy McSlowerson.
The absolute lack of caution I displayed by exiting
a moving vehicle…
Not to mention sprinting over the ice rink in kitten heels!
As my arms are extended and face locked on Heaven, everything crystallises in my mind, as I realize, I could hardly stand the
wait because....…
I was coming HOME!
I could have cried! (Okay, I did cry) How
could I not, when all of a sudden, I realize that I belong somewhere, and I
can hear the voice of my Father saying,
“Take your
shoes off Chrissy (Great choice on the gold sparkly ones, by the way!”) “It’s time to let loose daughter,
because you are HOME
As I open my eyes, tears trickling down, I realize that I
have a whole family, some of you I don’t even know. I don’t have to, though, because we are all at HOME with our
Father.
I don’t know what your experience of HOME has been. Maybe you have amazing, hilarious,
heart-warming memories, like the Pastor did, and that is so wonderful!!!
Or, maybe like so many of us, HOME has been for you, a place
where there has been some hurt, tension, and stress, a place where you couldn't always be your true self. Maybe this is especially
true for you as the holidays approach.
Whichever HOME you had, I hear the Father, inviting you…
Yes, You!
I see Him burst through the front door of the house, run
down the stairs to meet you as you make your way up the sidewalk.
His eyes shining wildly, His smile beaming.
I see
Him open His arms, wrapping them around you, and squeezing you so tight you
think you might burst.
I even see your feet dangling, two inches off the
ground, your face looking a bit stunned at His excited display of emotion
toward you. You just dangle there, stiff as a board.
You have no choice.
I watch Him grin at your awkwardness and excitedly whisper
into your ear, “I’m so glad you are here!”
He opens the door and you slide past him, hit with the cozy
warmth of the house.
The smell of
something sweet in the air permeates your senses.
You can see the glow of the fireplace, and the twinkle of
the tree lights across the house.
You take a deep breath, all the way to your deepest parts
and slowly exhale everything from inside.
He places His hand around your shoulder, pulling you right
close.
“Let Me take all of that heaviness you picked up this
week.”
“I’ll take that coat of guilt and shame.” “Put those
shoes of busyness and worry on the shelf.”
“I’ll hang that hat of stress, for
you”
“Take a load off, and just to let you know, you’ll be undoing that belt a notch, once you
finish the feast I prepared for you!”
“You are free to be yourself here, child.” “Free to be fully you in my presence!”
“There is a place for you, here in my heart.” “Come sit
down, put those tired feet up, and tell me what you’ve been up to.” He says as he places a, piping hot, peppermint mocha
in your hands.
“Welcome Home Child, I am so happy you are here”
Tears. I am the Mercy sister who needed to find this. It brought me back to the days worshipping beside one another. You were in my dreams the other night. If only people knew how divinely gentle and fiery you really are. I loved that you included the part about avoiding flipping the bird. Your humanity is exquisite. Lol that and it wasn't an exaggeration when you said you normally would suggest a husband driving that way to get his pregnant wife to the hospital.
ReplyDeleteBeloved sister, I miss you. Happy Birthday. Your gift writing is such a blessing. I love you sis.
El