Fragment #2

Fragment 2: 3/9/2021
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(Photo taken in 2017, Hradec Kralove)
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The day I left, I vowed silently—to myself and to my Father—that I would one day return. Home was behind, and the world ahead—yet it was only home that I wanted.
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Home is getting eggs from the potraviny, knowing that bus 16 gets me home, and taking the short cut to the train station. Home is PVC pipe sword fights and futbal with the neighbor kids, and being welcomed in by our neighbors ever time we visit our old street. Cherry blossoms, apple trees, and red currents—musli and BeBe cookies for breakfast. Weekend adventures to the forest, to the mountains, to the nearby castle—with a caravan of family and friends, and plenty of walking snacks and stops for ice cream. Home is many places, and all homes on this earth are but passing things—and yet the earthly home that still calls to me most is one where I lived for but a few years of my childhood.
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Fast forward 14 years, and I am locked out of my home; stuck in a strange land. I am making a home between homes, as I await my Home of permanence and long for the home of my past. There is beauty in the longing for that other country, as there is beauty in the longing for the next one; both are good and true; I am not homeless. So in the longing, Lord, please help me to recognize both my lack of belonging in this world (as it is) and my utter belonging in it (as you made it for us to dwell in); help me to live into the tension and balance of one in exile and one who is called to cultivate and care for this world. For you are coming, are coming, are ever coming, Lord—and one day I will be welcomed into my true Home and wander no more. But until then, let me live even now, in this hour, with an embrace of this longing—but also with a sense of belonging, within the home you have given me for this time. Let me make this home /home/; not only for myself, but for others. For my family, and for the stranger; for my children, and for the one who, like me, wanders in exile. And in this act of simple yet intentional homemaking, let your love and grace be made known more fully—as I and we learn to find our home in You.

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