Thanksgiving approaches, with Christmas not far behind. Next week my college students will scatter to the far corners as they anticipate a home-cooked meal, a down comforter on an old and friendly bed,
family gathering, favorite receipes pulled from grandma's old time-worn box of "How to make this" secrets, wrinkled with time, turkey splashes, and well loved corners bending from sticky fingers. Glancing one more time... Now how did she make that world-famous gravy?
My beloved students will put down their books and backpacks, set aside their pressing homework, and come back to a sense of ease about who they really are and what family can really mean.
They will look forward to the smells, sights and sounds that signal...
All is well, all is well.
They may feel a touch of nostalgia, pure and simple. For another day. A simpler time. When we watched, barely breathing, as the Thanksgiving morsels were minutes from being plated. Ah, the sense of wonder and a feeling of...
I don't take those words lightly.
I love the song lyrics that say,
"Feels like home to me, feels like home to me. And I'm all the way back where I belong."
My students are not hankering, as my Grandma used to say, for the latest sale at Kohls or the next new technology device. They are longing for a sense of coming home, a sense of belonging.
Yet for me, the words coming home are not just about a Thanksgiving spread or Christmas around the corner. Those words are not just about yearning for a season of gratitude and authenticity. Those two small words, coming home, resonate with the Savior's whisper in my ear. They vibrate as a still small voice in my heart.
With each passing day I am all the closer to coming home to my precious Lord.
I have never been so acutely aware of how much I need Jesus. The Jesus I know and love and serve
feels like home to me. Feels like all the way back where I belong.
If I am completely truthful, I spent large parts of my childhood not feeling like I belonged. It's not about not being loved (because I was). It's not about not being cared for (because I was cared for)...
It's all about being truly loved, just as I am. Unconditionally. I finally and completely came home
when I met Jesus. face-to-face and gave Him my heart. A God loves you and you are okay kind of coming home. Jesus making the most of me kind of moments.
Coming home to Jesus, and inviting Him to make the most of me, answered all the questions and filled the deepest longings of my heart. To be seen. No matter what. Jesus is there. No matter what. Jesus holds me in the palm of his hand. No matter what. Jesus has got my back. No. matter. what.
I saw this video the other day and it spoke to my heart about truly coming home and Jesus making the most of me. Perhaps it will touch yours as well.
May God bless you and keep you. May this be a season of coming home...for you.
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