Friday, I'm running away from home. A very close friend and I are headed to Isla Mujeres, an island off the Cancun Coast, to do some soul searching, heart nurturing, and basically escape our worlds for a time. It's good to run away sometimes, so long as you're willing to come back, and face that which is sending you off.
The other day I realized I'm not much different than the little girl I was at age 6, or maybe it was 7. Something happened at home, something that made me mad, something I couldn't control. I decided to run away from home because I was mad. I was packing my backpack/sack, whatever it was, basically my bandanna filled with stuff, tied to my stick, flung over my shoulder. My mom, inquizically asked me where I was going, and I told her that I was running away from home. She calmly said "Did you pack something to eat?" Of course, I hadn't thought that far ahead and replied "No." She said, "Well, let me get you something so you don't get hungry." A spin on her heels and she was off to the kitchen. She returned with some food wrapped in foil, handed my "sustinance" to me, leaned down, gave me a hug and a kiss and said, "You know, we'll always be here for you when you change your mind."
Off I went. I decided to begin my journey down the trail that ran along a small creek behind our house. It trailed behind our neighbors homes toward the main road in our small, Ohio township. If I recall correctly, I got to about the Shennenberger's back yard, two houses down from ours, before I decided I was hungry. I sat down, opened the foil of food only to find my very favorite.... cinnamon-sugar graham crackers. YUM! I indulged myself with the goodness of them, gobbling them up and savoring all their sweetness. Finishing my "meal" I stood up, brushed the crumbs off my shorts, grabbed my stuff and headed further down the trail past two more houses when it occurred to me .... I wanted some more yummy graham crackers, so spun on my heels and headed home, to my mom, who was waiting at the kitchen table, with a glass of milk and the rest of the crackers.
My husband knows exactly how to love me, just like my mom did. He has blessed me by encouraging me to go, loving me enough to let me go, and sending me off with the yumminess of his love. So when I sit down on the island, and gobble up the gift of love he sent me off with, I know I will stand up, brush the sand off my shorts, look to heaven, and thank God for all that He blesses me with... and know that although this gift is a world not my own, I love and enjoy my world too, the greater gift; my home, and all that it holds, and has to offer.
The other day I realized I'm not much different than the little girl I was at age 6, or maybe it was 7. Something happened at home, something that made me mad, something I couldn't control. I decided to run away from home because I was mad. I was packing my backpack/sack, whatever it was, basically my bandanna filled with stuff, tied to my stick, flung over my shoulder. My mom, inquizically asked me where I was going, and I told her that I was running away from home. She calmly said "Did you pack something to eat?" Of course, I hadn't thought that far ahead and replied "No." She said, "Well, let me get you something so you don't get hungry." A spin on her heels and she was off to the kitchen. She returned with some food wrapped in foil, handed my "sustinance" to me, leaned down, gave me a hug and a kiss and said, "You know, we'll always be here for you when you change your mind."
Off I went. I decided to begin my journey down the trail that ran along a small creek behind our house. It trailed behind our neighbors homes toward the main road in our small, Ohio township. If I recall correctly, I got to about the Shennenberger's back yard, two houses down from ours, before I decided I was hungry. I sat down, opened the foil of food only to find my very favorite.... cinnamon-sugar graham crackers. YUM! I indulged myself with the goodness of them, gobbling them up and savoring all their sweetness. Finishing my "meal" I stood up, brushed the crumbs off my shorts, grabbed my stuff and headed further down the trail past two more houses when it occurred to me .... I wanted some more yummy graham crackers, so spun on my heels and headed home, to my mom, who was waiting at the kitchen table, with a glass of milk and the rest of the crackers.
My husband knows exactly how to love me, just like my mom did. He has blessed me by encouraging me to go, loving me enough to let me go, and sending me off with the yumminess of his love. So when I sit down on the island, and gobble up the gift of love he sent me off with, I know I will stand up, brush the sand off my shorts, look to heaven, and thank God for all that He blesses me with... and know that although this gift is a world not my own, I love and enjoy my world too, the greater gift; my home, and all that it holds, and has to offer.
1 comment:
This was beautiful Joey! Thank you for sharing it with me. I wish I could pack my knap sack and tag along :o). I wish you well on your journey. Love you! M
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