Welcome Home

Jul 15, 2015
3 min read

"Hello...!"

The human gesture bounces off the cavernous rock and dissipates through the cool morning mists and coniferous trees.

The greeting, so long bottled up inside lets a cheerful second and third refrain descend to the foliage again, "Hello.... Hi! How are ya?"

The heart quickens and delights in the thinning echoes… a familiar glee paints itself across the face, like a mother reaching for her new born child, like a man wiping the finally sweat off his brow, like a boy lowering the binoculars, like a girl smiling in the mirror as she teeters in her mother’s high heels.

The morning mists seep into the mossy climbs of pine and birch and shards of gold direct themselves into banners of awakening. Crafted diamond dew drops hang in perfectly webbed symmetry between lacey boughs; catching the light, dripping with light.

The crystalized air shatters into millions of morning kissed particles at the three-noted cadence of a White-throated Sparrow, clear and pure. The tall strong and bowed grass leans into the soft breath of dawn's breeze.

The final few seen stars fade into the peaceful parade of clouds painted pastel with coral and baby blue hues. And the eyes teem with joy at the familiar scene and the soul sings the simple word...

“Home…. Home…. Home!”

(Excerpt from "Catching Affection" by AKS)

~

"Catching Affection" was written from a early morning vision of my heart where I sat down at my computer after months of being lost in other pursuits of life. I had written and spend many a time with the Father in that season, but my soul burst with joy as I knew I was entering into a new time where I could give good, intentional focus to my Father's heart beat through writing. It was homecoming. But, instead of the big band and streamers, it was the echoing beauty of wild wilderness and breaking light.

The Father will always be calling us and drawing us back to the hiding place, the place of home, back to that part of us that, as C.S. Lewis wrote, "is not of this world". The craving within us is so, so deep that it entangles itself around the very core of why we were created. Just step out your front door and you can feel the icy road that perfectionism, isolation, and passivism are trying to construct to fill those empty places. And when the heart revels in it's own idols, the spirit gasps under the grip of the flesh. And when the alarm clock of the mundane commands you to return to the things that are lackluster and full of sputtering hope, something deep with in us unsettles just a little more until that moment when we run barefoot and face dampened by prodigal into the arms of our Constant One.

The shadows of worry, no-time, lack of patience, tiredness, fear, and loss I confront right before I enter into that land of promise become so small as I squish my toes into the reality of intimacy and relationship with Father God. To get there is different for each person. To stay there is different for each person. To make a home there is good for each person.

Where is that wardrobe door for you? That secret garden? Your second star to the right and straight on to morning? It may just be for you crawling up into that dusty, musty smelling quiet place that holds an unmatched capacity of the Father's love and grace that brings your heart home.

Hello, Friend.

Take my hand, and let's go on an adventure.