Yesterday my family and I returned after ten days away from home. We were gone on a long trip and spent time visiting with various friends and a bit of family. It was wonderful to spend time with so many close and precious friends, and I was reminded once again how important a journey is.
A journey allows me to leave what is comfortable and known for a destination that is known only slightly or not at all. Along the way I see myself, others, God, and life in new ways, or ways that are new again. I spent time with dear friends who have the ability to stimulate thought and stir up my spirit in deep ways. It was good to spend time with them, although it was not comfortable. By the end of the week, I was aching to return home because I had so much in me that needed processing. Here are some reflections that I have managed to distill from the emotional, spiritual, and intellectual upheaval that accompanied me home:
“Life is a journey” is an old and worn cliche that still works for me. As my life trundles along, pushed by my children, home life, home schooling, and husband, I have come to realize that my life will not be my own unless I make it so. My journey will not exist unless I consciously look for it. Life has felt flat, unending, boring, and desperate for the last six months because my person has been overcome by outside demands.
My desire to write and learn comes from a desire to gain wisdom, knowledge, and personal growth. If I write, I do it because life does not become reality for me until I put words onto paper. If I read, it’s because I’m interested in what I can gain from what I read. I read and write for my own satisfaction, clarity of mind, and interest.
In my life, the easy way is almost always not the best way or the right way. So often what teaches me most is what is most difficult. It has taken me all my life thus far to realize this. I wonder what other obvious truths I will bump my nose on. After all, the apostle Paul writes often about suffering bringing joy, hope, faith, and other good things. I don’t think I will go looking for suffering, however. I’m not sure I’m of the same personal calibre as Saint Paul.
- My Mom’s Poem (khamillion.wordpress.com)