Coming Home

We made it through September. The backpacks, back to schools, shutting of cottage doors. The harvest collected, passports closed, and starting of all things new. Traffic is busier this time of year. Vehicles crawl in rush hour jams. “Mommy, what’s a traffic jam?” a voice pipes in from backseat wonder, wisps of brown caramel tucked behind ear, “I have to pee...”. Crock pots on high alert, held at a level of accountability so high, they dare not let us down. That 6 pm meal is everything, and if I have to do one more thing... just one more thing, I may collapse.

I’ve gotten better at these times. The living in the now.  The to-do list as friend, not nemesis, glued across dashboard drive. Groceries. Check. Gas. Check.  Errand. Check. A day’s work behind me, left hand cramping from age.  Mind still reeling, thinking about the call. Mulling over mundane. Feeling on the heartache. Swimming there, I drive.

Gears put in neutral, gravel crunches, sunglasses fumble and I shut the door behind me.  I step toward the school doors. Little coats and rain boots lined beneath parent committee notice and shiny hallway floors. The janitor smiles from downcast eyes as she works and focuses. Dancing with her mop, I pass by excusing.   Heels click as they follow the yellow brick road.

Chairs turned on tables, neatly. The classroom echoes and I realize the field outside, the playground is where they’ve been called. Where they’ve been beckoned.

And at first I can’t see her as the rays block the vision, and the fogged head still clears from its preoccupations. But the anticipation heightens and I feel my face soften, lips part, and I prepare for her joy.

It’s quick that I hear it. Hear her in a single cry, “Mommy!” and she runs quickly.  Little legs carry, green raincoat open, its tails fly and want to stay with after school friends.  Her gate gets quicker, determined, more focused, hair dances carelessly, open, and free.  The vision gets clearer, and the wide toothed grin is all that carries her before our eyes meet, shining, connected, reunited.  We come Home.

As we embrace and I lift her, little jeaned legs wrap around me.  Both my heart and everything in me now is at peace, and for a moment nothing else matters. Security is found, in this little being, and in our coming home. 

And these are the moments I feel Him most clearly. Almost as if He celebrates with me, watching us in wonder.  He speaks through her love of this I’m most certain. Longing to pour out His love on my baby and me. So be blessed today, like children He says, receive Me, run to Me. Child, just come home.

~The Lord bless you and watch, guard, and keep you; the Lord make His face to shine upon and enlighten you and be gracious (kind, merciful, and giving favor) to you; the Lord lift up His [approving] countenance upon you and give you peace (tranquility of heart and life continually).~ Numbers 6:24-26