Friday, September 4, 2009

Are we there yet?

Are we there yet? How many times have you heard that on a road trip? If you are a parent, you've heard it countless times. I'm sure I harassed my parents with the same question. On our vacation this summer, we heard this in three different octaves.

The other day my daughter suffered a blow. She was dancing in her room to the sound of a musical snow-globe. It was a sweet gift from a sweet friend, and she loved it. During the more dramatic movements of her dance the dresser was bumped and the snow-globe accidentally fell. It shattered onto the hardwood floor and with it her heart. She crumbled to the floor along side the glass and water and wept. I tried to console my sad little one.

While I held her she began to say, "I want to go home. I just want to go home".

I was so confused. "We are home, sweetheart. Mommy's right here, holding you in your bed. We are home." I tried to comfort.

Finally, she calmed and we cleaned up the mess.

Her sad words have haunted me since. In her little life we have moved three times; three homes. I have always believed that she is resilient within our ministering lifestyle. I still believe that. This made me question whether she really was feeling secure in our new home. We have been here for more than a year now. To date, I don't know what anxiety my little one feels. I've tried to crawl inside her mind, her heart and see what makes her worry. Is it me? Is it friends? Then my mind took me somewhere else. Is it simply life?

There have been times in my life where the pain from a broken heart was so deep that all I could wish for was to go to a place where the pain would stop; to go to a home that was all peace, all quiet, all safe. To be honest, I've never lived in such a place.

We all feel that kind of pain every now and then. Unfortunately, some of us experience it more than others.

Life hurts. To deny life's pain is truly foolhardy. To try to explain away life's pain is fruitless; it can't be done. We all search for that peaceful place; the place where the pain stops. We drink it away. We sex it away. We ignore it. We put on our make-up and pretend it doesn't exist, and still it does.

Let me offer this...we are all simply asking..."are we there yet?"
In our pain we cry..."I want to go home."

We are on our way to a place of peace. He is offering it and he is waiting. Our life here is a journey that includes love, joy, laughter, dancing, and unfortunately pain. I can't explain why pain is, but it is. I do want to go home. We will go home, and then we will wave good-bye to the brokenness that brought us to our knees.

I think from here on when I hear my little one's ask if we are there yet, I'll smile and say..."not yet, but we will be."

No comments:

Post a Comment

All posts must include names.
I will not post anonymous messages.