Our childhood home is the place where our conscience was formed. A place where we felt safe and secure.
And why did we feel safe? Hopefully, because we trusted those who lived there.
We trusted them not only to provide for us, but to give us right answers, and to guide us by good example.
Most of us are fortunate that our parents did these things. But unfortunately, not all parents keep their children safe, or give them right answers, or guide by good example.
At one time or another, for one reason or another, all of us leave home. For a job, marriage, or some other venture that we think will bring us happiness.
But if our home was a good one, it’s a place we like to return to. We don’t even have to be there, we hold it in memory. It’s always in our heart.
What if our life away from home is not as we’d envisioned it?
Away from home, we may have made mistakes, wrapped ourselves in erroneous motives, or addictions, or meanness, or jealousy, or revenge, and on and on. At first, we may feel that we can’t come home, even that we wouldn’t be wanted there. Or maybe we like our new lifestyle better.
So we stay away.
Do we continue on the long road home, making more and more mistakes along the way?
Or do we clean ourselves up, and prepare to return?
There is one home each of us will return to, whether we want to or not. Our eternal home. And we do not chose when that return will take place. Shouldn’t we be preparing for that?
Photo by Jessica Cooper1231, MorgueFile.com
Translating a World on the Edge 