And the friends—it had been five years since I’d been back, and some who were little boys and girls now towered over me or have blossomed into young women. I knew how precious these friends were, how they’d truly been our family in the years we lived in the northwest corner of this state. But staying in their home again, staying up late catching up on each other’s burdens and joys, living life together again even a little, renewed those bonds such that my tears this morning were for missing them too.
The stillness, the space, the lack of neighbor noise save for dogs, roosters, horses, and goats. The incredible darkness at night, away from city lights. The stars.
I will write more later, about what I learned, the research I did, the people I met, God’s faithfulness in guiding my steps. But for today, I just want to pause and be thankful I got to go “home.” It is not an idyllic place, however my memories tend to paint it so—I was reminded of the heartache and sin and problems that dog us in this fallen world, here, there, and everywhere. Yet this corner of the earth still holds a place in my family’s hearts I think nowhere else will ever have. When we went back to visit for the first time five years ago, my then eleven-year-old sister exclaimed as the terrain began to turn familiar, “It’s like we used to be in Narnia, and then we had to go back in the real world, but we’ve found our way back into Narnia again!” And I know what she means—there is something of that wonder and joy of the Pevensie children in Prince Caspian, to be back.
Surely, though, it is only the tiniest, imperfect taste of what we will know when we are truly homesomeday—with Jesus in that Place that we are truly made for, where all the longings and aches of our hearts will at last be satisfied deep down. That Place He has gone ahead to prepare for us. There, once and for all, we will really be home.
Beautiful pictures! And beautiful metaphors about home. Thanks for sharing, and I can’t wait to hear more about the trip!
Thanks, Sarah. 🙂