Sometimes you need a change of pace — a different view to see life from another angle. In that spirit, I took a day off work to dedicate to homing in my perspective.
I started by doing something different from my morning routine: I went for a walk at a local park. The scenery was lovely, but the temperatures were more like June than September. I hurried past the yellow flowers peeking through the greenery, upping my pace to return to my car’s air conditioning.
Without giving much consideration to where I was going next, I ended up inside a coffee shop, sipping on a fall-flavored drink. I tried to relax, but the Pittbull playlist booming over the speakers made it impossible to do anything but finish my drink in the car.
Where could l go to find a patch of solace? Does such a place exist? I tossed these questions around in my head on my drive home. The next question I tossed up higher to God: What do You want me to see today, Lord? Tell me. Please show me.
In the middle of my chat with God, I nearly ran into the car ahead of me. I did not have enough time to brake lightly, which jolted the driver behind me as he laid on his horn. I was ready to call the day a total waste of vacation time, but I couldn’t even seem to get home to start my pity party. I was stuck on the road, waiting for several cars in front of me to wedge themselves into a small gravel lot beside an older cottage home. Looking closer, I read the sign in the front yard of the house. It was a florist. Watching a woman carry out two corsages and an arm mum, it dawned on me that this was Homecoming weekend for the high school. That explained the crowd.
Homecoming.
There are three events other than Homecoming where I have seen so many flowers: weddings, Valentine’s Day, and funerals. Oddly enough, all four of these occasions have something in common: love. And all four are a form of coming home. The first is an expression of community support, coming home to welcome former and current students and rally for your team. A wedding is a union of two becoming one. Valentine’s Day expresses to a loved one that they have your heart. And funerals celebrate a life lived and the coming home to Jesus.
These occasions remind me of the need to have something to look forward to and something to celebrate. I would be lying if I said there was not a day gone by that I did not crave home. This world is a battlefield, and I know Heaven awaits with fields of praise and peace. I can almost hear the windchimes on Heaven’s porch, and oh, what a beautiful sound! And beyond the porch, into the heart of Christ’s house, there is a room prepared just for me — what joy fills my soul thinking upon this truth!
And yet, I remain here for a reason and a season. My heavenly homecoming has not yet arrived, but I can still celebrate God’s love and look forward to one day being held in the arms of Christ. Until then, I will live for eternity where I stand.
That afternoon I took a phone call from a woman concerned about how to care for her father. He lives in another state and has been distraught and depressed since his wife passed last year.
“It has been one year since she died,” the woman began. “Dad finally got out of the house and went to eat a hamburger because Mom’s favorite food was hamburgers. It was the first time he had gone outside of the house in ages. He gets everything delivered. I don’t even know if he is eating well or showering.”
The woman went on to tell me that her dad no longer takes in visitors, rarely returns her phone calls, and recently became angry with her when she offered to fly up there and help him go through some of her stepmom’s things.
“He drinks until he forgets, hoping he will wake up with her by his side once again. He is basically waiting to die,” she said.
I got off the phone with the woman and felt my heart sink. Her dad is without a home. He remains caught in grief. Oh, grief! What a tricky road with a million paths, often not knowing if we are moving forward or backward.
How many people are alive but barely living?
I slipped my sneakers back on and grabbed my keys. Starting the car, I drove to the first place I went this morning. I did not care that the temperature had risen since my first complaint of the heat. I did not care about anything but homing in on what I had started the day to find: a new perspective. I had found it, not realizing at the time that I had walked right past it.
I slowed my pace as I neared the patch of yellow flowers curving themselves from the shrubs like feminine hands waiting to be kissed. I picked several stemmed blooms and held them to my lips, feeling their softness and tenderness. What a gift — a grand reminder of the beauty found in being gentle. I celebrated this simple goodness that I had overlooked earlier in the day. I had noticed the blooms, but I did not celebrate the fact that God put them there for me to enjoy — my favorite color, on my walk, blooming on this particular morning. As I drove home, I looked forward to putting the stems in a vase and cherishing their company for the time they gifted me.
Homecoming.
We are not so different from the blooms that are here for a reason and a season. So long as we are alive, may we continue to put life into our living. May we find something to celebrate and look forward to daily, even if it is as simple as admiring the beauty of nature, the exchange of a smile, the comfort of an uplifting conversation, or the fragrance of flowers that remind us of love and loving. Until the day we are called home, may we come together as caring followers of Christ — what a beautiful homecoming that would be in a world desperate for authentic love and grace.
Tiffany Kaye Chartier
SGLY, dear reader.
(Smile, God Loves You.)
Tiffany Kaye Chartier, Author 