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The Traveler

   My Dad worked nights at the Post Office when
we were young. It was during the great depression. How would Dad sleep with three
small children in a three-room house?  Mother
would often take us for a ride. Her constant quest was a beautiful shade tree,
her criteria for a picnic! She would say, “I wonder where this road leads?”
   Once, Mother stopped on a country road.  Something wasn’t right.  We felt her angst as she stopped the car and walked
further to the empty place where a bridge should have been. No sign warning us!  I remember thinking my Mom was the bravest
person I knew.  She would protect us.
    Later, we left home and made our homes far
away. Dad and Mother traveled long distances from Oklahoma to California, Utah,
and wherever I was living at the time.  There
were also trips to Kansas where Mom’s family lived. There was no need for a ‘bucket
list’ for a vacation.  It was more of a ‘Love
List’ giving them reasons to travel.
    The last two lines of Mother’s Poem, The Traveler, caught my eye. “And my
travels turn to ‘froth and foam’ – unraveling in a one-way ticket to Home.” 
                           The Traveler
         I
dreamt of life in some exotic land
         Where fountains flow – like Tripoli or
Rome:
         Contempt for things well-known lured me
to stand
         On mountain peaks ten thousand miles
from home.
         At first my itching feet skipped over
miles
         Where ridges rose to greet idyllic
scenes;
         Raw thirst was quenched at spas and
tree-fringed isles
         Where bridges spanned blue bays and
deep ravines.
         I eagle-viewed the landscape, soaring
high
         And engineered time-tables to new
dreams
         Where regal crews bowed low to satisfy
         With pioneering craft to conquer
streams
                  Until my travels turn to froth
and foam
                  Unraveling in a one-way ticket
home
.
   We are travelers through this life, and our
destination is not far-flung lists of destinations.  Just one place – Home with Jesus. The Love of Jesus draws us through this life to
our final destination – our Heavenly Home – as we walk and live with Him in our
allotted time on earth.
    John 14:1-3, one of my favorite scriptures,
gives us our way Home.
“Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust
also in me. 
 There is more than enough room
in my Father’s home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am
going to prepare a place for you?
 When everything is ready, I will come and get
you, so that you will always be with me where I am
   There is
no need to pack or plan the itinerary through a Travel Agency to Heaven. The
last six years of his life, my dear husband suffered from dementia. His one
desire became, to go home, although
he had no understanding of where Home could be.
   An old
quote is Home is where the heart is,
and Ed’s heart belonged to God in all he said and did. Our celebration of his
life on Good Friday, began with a song, his granddaughter, Jenny, sang. “Goin’ home, goin’ home, I’m just goin’
home. Quiet like, some still day, I’m just goin’ home. It’s not far, just close
by through an open door, Work all done, care laid by, going to fear no more…
     II Corinthians 5:6-7, 17 – “So
we are always confident, knowing that while we are at home in the body we are
absent from the Lord. For we walk by faith, not by sight. Therefore, if anyone
is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is
here!”
   
My ‘bucket list’ has only one destination – Heaven. God provides the transportation
and makes me a new creation. He provides an everlasting home in Heaven. I can only
imagine… the glory waits for those who call upon His Name and walk with Him! The
reunion with loved ones in Heaven is just the beginning of the joys that await
us.

   Psalm 30:4-5, 11-12 Sing to the Lord, all you godly ones!  Praise his holy name. For His anger lasts only a moment, but His favor lasts a lifetime! Weeping may last
through the night,
 but joy comes with the morning…You have turned my mourning
into joyful dancing.
  You have taken
away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy,
that I might sing praises to you and not be silent.
Lord my
God, I will give you thanks forever!

Comments? eacombs@att.net

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