Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: The Family Home (05/29/08)
TITLE: My Father's House
By Rita Horten
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When I was a girl growing up, often times, I would ponder running away from home, from the anger and the abuse. Even though I was not safe, there was a presence that held me there and drew me in. Years later, I would realize it was the love of my mother. I wanted to live with her forever, to be where she was and to always behold her face.
After I had grown and moved out on my own, I often dreamed of my childhood home, especially during times of tribulation and unrest in my life. I dreamed of walking and walking toward home. The journey seemed endless and my legs would be so tired. My heart would ache for the place of familiarity and the presence of love. Sometimes, I would arrive, but somehow it would be different. Some things were familiar but it was just not the same. Something was missing and I was often alone. Sometimes, my dreams would end with me never arriving, only striving.
When I bought my own home and had my children, then I ceased to dream about my childhood home. I knew peace and love in this home. I was safe in this place. My daughters became the love I came home to and their presence took the place of my mother. However, I ached for the constant love of a husband, a father. I went off in search for him, dragging my daughters along. Searching, giving, dreaming, hoping, needing. Many different places later, I added that past home to my dreams at night. That home became the place I walked and walked to, seldom ever arriving. It seemed I was always walking at night to get there. My legs gave out and my heart fainted. I was never to go back. I needed a home that I could find by day.
After a long, long journey, I am at home once again. My house has been filled with a husband, a father, children and grandchildren. Occasionally, I dream of the other homes in my past but I am not striving to get there any longer. I am not always at peace in my home now, but I think its because I sense another place calling me. Somehow, I do not feel the urgency to arrive. I believe I am already on the journey. I can rest when needed and my legs do not tire. I do not feel that my heart will faint. I know I will arrive someday. I know love in the home I now live. I feel belonging and comfort, yet my heart is not completely settled.
There is a place that awaits me and my name is written there. There will be no tears there, and the sun will shine continually. In this place, there will be peace and love and I will behold my mother’s face. I will unite with my dad and there will be others there I’ve yet to meet, who came before me. All the things I lacked in my search will be found in abundance there. Grace and mercy will abide and my wonderful Savior will be at my side. He told me He was preparing a place for me. I will never have to leave and I will never be without, there will be no more doubt. My loved ones will be with me there. My heart will no longer wander, I will no longer dream of homes in my past, for I will be home at last.
In My Father’s house are many mansions, if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. John 14:2 (NKJV)
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