Reflections

“To live life to the fullest, share every last drop with the people you love.” (From Tea for Two by: Bob Fuller) 

It’s good to be back. Don’t get me wrong, I love visiting family, especially my dad and step-mom. There were visits to the zoo, parks, and the local children’s museum. I was able to catch up with my step-sister and my two nephews who I hadn’t seen in several years. I also visited with some long time family friends over dinner and saw an aunt, uncle, and cousin on my mom’s side over brunch. We flew a kite with my uncle and his wife on my dad's side, or maybe I should say the kite flew us. The kids got spoiled with way too many wonderful things. We celebrated Easter and my dad’s birthday. I also bonded with my dad over shopping for a new daytimer (I know, I’m a nerd) and bonded with my step-mom over shopping for kindergarten preparation materials at the local teacher store.  I enjoyed three worship experiences at their church and there were multiple trips to Wal-Mart and Costco for essentials. I can’t say it was relaxing, but I feel ready to get back to my life which is a good way to feel after being without many responsibilities for two weeks.

It always feels good to see my house as I pull up in the car from being away and feel that tug in my heart that says that I am meant to be here. It felt good waking up in my bed to a sun shining  morning  in a house surrounded by fully budded trees rich with spring foliage.  I could see those trees and the vibrant green out of every window in our house. It felt good unpacking, sorting and opening my mail, and catching up with correspondence and emails.

Strangely, I do feel rejuvenated and ready for the work at hand that remains- preparing for vacation Bible school, the end of the school year busyness, finalizing summer plans, and the like. Something missing a few weeks ago has been found. Something I had not even realized was missing until now- a love of home.

So often when I used to return home after a long, tiring day of teaching I would see my home come into view and feel a happy sigh escape my lips. I could feel the day slip away in an almost  amnesia-like moment where the negatives disappeared and just didn’t really matter anymore. After all  it wasn’t real life, just work.

Staying home it all becomes more serious. The glaring imperfections in the surroundings shout failure and everything becomes a measurement. Those bits of leftover crackers still on the floor from several meals past. The pile of items that need to find their home. The never ending battle with toys strewn about the floor. The enrichment activity strategically implemented that somehow bombs anyway. In all those things the simple joy of being home is trampled over and the gift is forgotten. The joy stolen.

For me it was renewed when my husband sweetly and quietly reminded me of why he had chosen to stay home the day after picking up his girls from the airport by saying, “Today is supposed to be a family day.” So I put the pile of mail I was sorting to the side. I savored the indoor quiet for a moment due to a baby napping, enough to last me a while, and instead chose to go outside and jump with my three year old and her daddy on the new trampoline that he had assembled while we were gone. A welcome home/ welcome spring present meant to help our spirited daughter tire herself out. “Jump me Mommy! Jump me Daddy!” rang out in the air like music along with giggles all around.

Later we enjoyed a cook out on the deck, the first of the season. I looked around at our trees blowing in the light breeze sending golden seed pods of all kinds raining down and I thanked God for bringing us here to this place both literally and figuratively. I thanked him for the gift of home. Both a place and a feeling. I thanked him for trips that allow us to fully love and enjoy those we visit but also allow us to fully love and enjoy those with whom we live. What a gift.