Coming Home

As long as there is a home to go to, I will go there as often as I can. I am looking forward to seeing my parents in a day or two. And, although it is not the home that I grew up in, it is still home to me; wherever my parents are is home. I think we all have a "bungee cord" that draws us back home. I am glad that the bungee cords in my girl's hearts are pulling them back home soon! This mom is ready to throw my arms around them, touch them, see their beautiful smiles, and look into their eyes again! Thank heavens for Michele and her constant, caring presence! I love my girls and their little families! Yeah for bungee cords!

Homing

There is something inside us that brings us home;
Like a deer drawn to a stream on a warm night.

We drink deeply, the memories soothing our parched throats;
Filling our spirit with the cool waters of belonging.

We bed down near the stream, close to its gentle sound;
Knowing that we can refresh ourselves through the night.

When dawn breaks, we sip one last time before moving on;
our path leads us away from this, our first home.

We make note of the hill close by, the forked tree
just around the bend;
Etching the scene in our mind to tuck away for
other thirsty times.

We will return to this quiet place in days ahead,
When our thirst cannot be quenched anywhere else
but home.


By Connie Pehrson
June 29, 2004