Where I wanted to go

On days like this, recognizing the content of my writing of late has been weighted on the heavy side, I really wish I could detach and pull out something funny and astonishingly witty to write about. I wish I could write something that would help take my mind off so many other things, and in doing so, help provide comic relief for some other overwhelmed soul. But here I am confessing that, I'm sorry, dear reader, I just don't have it in me today. Bear with me if you can, I'm going deep again.

I'm still thinking about Japan, about all the people. I'm thinking of warnings of radiation traveling to the northwest. I'm thinking about the dried kelp I'm supposed to ingest daily now to get more natural doses of iodine to protect against this radiation. I'm thinking about all the different burdens my loved ones are carrying. I'm thinking about my brother-in-law who's been in the hospital much of the week, and my sister, who's been by his side. I'm thinking about Libya. I'm thinking of where I'd escape to if I could get a break from real life, bringing the ones I love with me. And then I'm thinking, does such a safe haven exist? I'm thinking about how much our world has changed in the time I've been alive. I'm thinking of the world my kids will grow up in if I have any kids someday. And in all this thinking, no light-hearted, witty stories come to mind to change the subject, even briefly.

As I was driving to work this morning, already trying not to be weighed down by my thoughts, I was listening to a song by Coldplay. My mind wandered further with a line from the song, "Home, home, where I wanted to go." The thought wandered all the way to heaven, and I followed it. I thought of my Papa, how he's at home in a different place, and I missed him. I'm envious of where he's at and glad for his sake that he's there. I thought of how, as the world continues to change, it becomes even more clear to me that I will never be truly at home here. My home is someplace else, and I'm just a temporary resident here, making the best of the time. I've grown rather attached to this place, though, and it's a bit painful watching all these changes take place. Still, it makes me homesick for the day when home will forever be a place of peace and rest, where death and sorrow and nuclear plants and weapons and natural disasters and epidemics and wars and poverty and sickness do not exist.

Home, home, where I wanted to go. I'm not there yet. But as long as I'm here, let me live and love and give courageously, until my last breath. For God loves this earth and all the people in it, and He's writing a story in which He already knows the ending. And the ending is hope.