Longing For Home

(Written on Sept. 21, 2010, onboard Royal Caribbean's "Grandeur of the Seas" as we headed toward Grand Cayman.)

I snagged a couple of poolside chairs and managed to get in a little snooze after our early morning walk. But by 10:30, the sun was blazing in the sky and the day began heating up. Rather than risk a sunburn on our first day out, we gave up the lounges to a young couple, and moved to a table in the shaded area on the port side of the ship. I began watching the sea as we churned through the water.

Off on the distant horizon I could see the uneven outline of an island: Cuba, I realized. Purplish hazy hills jutted out of the deep sapphire blue sea; we were too far away to see any details. I stood at the ship's rail, watching as we moved past this mysterious country.




To my right, I noticed an older gentleman. He was dressed in a dark t-shirt, plaid shorts, white socks and tennis shoes. I guessed him to be in his late 70's or early 80's. He was gazing out at the island, apparently lost in deep thought.

After several moments, he looked around and saw that I was also looking out to sea. He did not smile, but nodding his head toward the land, he spoke. "Cuba. My homeland."

He turned back to face the island. "When I left there, I was a very young man, a strong man. Now....I am old." He paused for a long while, then added, "I miss my homeland." With that, he gave me a sad smile, then turned and walked away. I felt almost voyeuristic, realizing that I'd been given a very private glimpse into the gentleman's life.

For a moment, all of the laughter, music, noise, and gaiety of the cruise ship faded to silence as I watched that one lonely soul, longing for home.

***
In a sense, we who follow Jesus share a similar emotion with that gentleman. We exist in the here and now, realizing that we don't always "fit" --but for now we have to stay. There are things we must do, people we must meet, all parts of our purpose. We think of friends and loved ones who linger on in our memories, and look forward to that glad Heavenly reunion day.

We're here, in the world, with all of the noise and distractions -- yet deep inside, we also are longing for Home.

Selah.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Day Time Stopped

Image
February 17, 2020 was the Day Time Stopped. I've struggled for words ever since.  The morning was foggy.   So foggy I couldn't see across the cove. So foggy that Facebook friends were commenting that it was the thickest fog they'd ever seen. Instead of "walking on little cat feet," this fog landed like thick concrete. The phone rang. My sister said there had been a car accident. Our parents were injured. We raced to the hospital in Charlotte. Our daddy died that evening. Our mama died two days later, on the 19th. Time Stopped. Nothing will ever be the same again. ***** The first time we walked back into their house, everything was waiting. The chicken waited to welcome them back home. Daddy's lift chair waited for him to come sit back down. Mama's books and crossword puzzles waited for her to pick them back up. Breakfast dishes waited to be washed. Mama's earrings and "Charlie" perfume waited to be worn. Daddy's Tyson cap waited to be put
Read more

Love Ya Legacy

I didn’t know Kelly very well. But she made a significant impression on me the first time we ever met. I was visiting at David’s church, for the first time. I knew NOBODY, other than David, and felt more than a little bit self-conscious since I was the “stranger in their midst.” But after the service was over, there stood Kelly. She had reddish hair, and glasses, and a huge smile on her face. “Hey there, my name’s Kelly, and we’re SO glad you are here today!” Then, with a big hug, she added, “Love ya!” And then she bounced down the sidewalk, in search of her husband Kirk. As David and I continued to see each other, I’d attend services at the Winnsboro Church of the Nazarene about every other Sunday. And every Sunday, without fail, Kelly would speak to me, hug me, and before we parted she’d say, “Love ya!” She truly made me feel good. I began to look for her smiling face at church on Sunday mornings. Aside from small chit-chats at church, I only got to really talk with Kelly
Read more

FREE THE TATAS, SAVE THE TURTLES!

Image
There are few things in life that I detest more than a bra.   Yes, I said it, and I know this makes my mother cringe.   (Sorry, Mom!) As a pre-teen, when one girl in the class came to school sporting a training bra,  we ALL decided we should have one.  What no one tells you is that a training bra does not train the boobs, it trains the GIRL to wear a bra. I think that was the LAST time I ever truly WANTED a bra. I determined that a bra was developed as a torture device to keep women "tied to their place."  At times I'd just as soon have a strand of barbed wire wrapped around my rib cage. I grew up in the late 60's and early 70's, when "bra-burning" was a sign of feminism, a sign of protest against establishment.  I didn't actually DO it --- but now, the idea is really kind of intriguing! I will admit bras DO have some usefulness.  They make our clothes fit better.  They "lift and separate" (to borrow a phrase from a
Read more