I’m finally home…it’s been almost over a year since I was here and it’s only now that I realize how much I actually missed home. I think when you’re out there in the world making benevolent attempts to ascend in the echelons of life, one hardly thinks of the people living there, except for the ‘hey, you’re still alive’ irregular phone calls, the check-ups to satisfy the heart that you still care. I guess it’s only when you’re about to journey home that the anticipation really takes its toll and overwhelms you to a point of no return.
I wonder though, if this is how a person of age feels when he can hear the ringing bells of the pearly gates announcing the nearing of his return home…well, it seems I will remain in wonder until I’m also of age. No young lad wishes to go home while they are still vibrant and fresh. One only gets time to make phone calls to inform the Father where he is in his life at that moment, and if he feels he is still on God’s good side, he then disappears for another couple of months. But when we’ve ran our course, when our souls are tired and weary, when our bodies have become saggy and can barely fight the wrinkles and pain, and when we’ve become indebted to anti-ageing creams. It is only then that we really think of coming back home to the Father who still loves us even in our rebellion…but at what cost?
Keep Thinking!
Sources: Life Scrolls, Home is where the heart is
