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No Place Like Home

Hubby and I have traveled 13 days in October, so far. Nine of those days we were getting to and from and going on a glorious cruise to the Caribbean with my son and his family.  Our job was primarily that of babysitters for our 3-year old grandson, Xander.  But we loved that part of it, too.

Being on or near water is a spiritual experience for me. I think I’m more attracted to the beach than the sea.  It’s the power of the waves that seems to remind me the most of the greatness and power of the Lord.  I see their constancy, which soothes me; I watch the bulge of the wave form out from the shore and watch its progress until it finally crests, then breaks as it folds onto the beach, then recedes quietly back into the depths again.  Such power!  Such beauty!

The sea is great, too. Its expanse is the main element that causes me to glorify the Creator, when I can see nothing but water, then recognize that all of it is a tiny drop in the palm of God’s hand.  Then consider all that lies in its depths, and the Lord’s brilliant imagination in that underwater creation.

We got home and barely had time to unpack when we heard the news that Theron’s brother had died. So we packed again and took off on the long drive to St. Charles, MO, where we spent the next four days. Theron’s brother, Claud, has a large, loving family and it did us good to see them again, to see how they respected and loved their father, grandfather, and husband.

My husband and Claud’s five grown grandsons served as pallbearers. There were those tall, dark and handsome young men—and then there was my husband, all 5’7” of him, in his nice suit, with his silvery hair, and the sweetest expression on his face—of pain mixed with strength.  When I saw him like that, my heart exploded with love for him, and once again, I thanked the Lord for bringing us together.

When we made it home again, I saw my humble abode as the haven it’s come to be for us. It was like a giant “aaahhhhh.”  Our house is old and out of style.  It has the problems associated with old houses.  But problems and all, it seemed to wrap its arms around us when we walked in the door.  We’re home again.  I think I’ll stay a while, Lord willing. The old adage is so true—“Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.”

 

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