The Good DOCTOR

I was sitting in the hospital bed, waiting for my initial surgery to take place, when he walked into the room. With his leather jacket, close-fitting jeans, boots, and curly hair a little on the wild side, I almost expected to see a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm; he looked fresh off a ride. Certain he was looking for somebody else and had simply wandered into the wrong room, I was about to set him straight when he held out his hand, introduced himself and said he'd be doing my surgery later in the day!

This was my doctor? I wonder if the surprise showed on my face. He pulled a chair up close to the bed and settled in for a chat. Kindness and concern marked his conversation; soon we were talking like old friends. When his technical medical explanations went over my head, he got up and drew explanatory pictures on the white board on the wall. Once business was done, we turned to the subject of where we were from. Upon discovering that we'd each lived in California and Ohio, we discussed the relative merits of each state, from endless sunshine to plenty of personal space. The latter was what was important to him; he liked room to move around and talked with joy about his love for his farm. Amazed that he had spent so much time with me, by the time he rose and said goodbye I was confident my elbow was in good hands.

In the days, weeks and now months since that initial conversation and surgery, that initial assessment has proven to be true. We meet as friends and team members striving to reach a certain goal, discussing our progress and treatment options whenever things don't seem to be going according to plan. His care always evident, my confidence in his abilities and advice has only grown. I always leave with any worry gone and the feeling that he has my situation under complete control.

Obviously my relationship with the good doctor reminds me of the one I have with the Great Physician. From the day we were first formally introduced His kindness and care have drawn me ever closer to Him and I have learned to place my trust and my life in His complete control. I think He takes special delight in showing up in situations where I'm not expecting to find Him, disguising His identity, until after the fact some little clue leads me to say in wonder, “That was You , God?!” I can almost see Him throw back His head and laugh, perhaps at my amazement that after all this time together there is still so much about Him that I simply don't know. Worry and fear never tarry in His presence, faith in His ability to handle any situation only grows in the time we spend together.

Funny that our conversations likewise often turn to the subject of Home. He's lived in my world, and I will eventually live in His, but the connections between the two are growing every day. From His words on the subject in His Book to the descriptions He's whispered in my ears He is painting a picture of the place that hangs in my heart as prominently as the photo of my elbow surgeon's farm hangs in his office. Both keep our thoughts focused and our feet traveling in the right direction, so that at the end of the day we'll both find ourselves where our hearts long to be.

"...I am the LORD that healeth thee."

(Exodus 15:26 KJV)

Longing to RETURN

The list simply grows and grows.

Three weeks into The Challenge, one of the most delightful results of the whole effort now poses a challenge of its own. I have too many sites I want to return to on a regular basis to fit into the blogging hours of the day! After years of solitary posting, this new community of like-minded friends calls to me repeatedly and insistently to come and play. I give in to visit “just one more” before heading off to accomplish another task on my to-do list, promising myself the reward of another one once the less pleasant job is done. Visiting competes with writing for my blogging attention on a regular basis now.

Part of the draw is the traveling of my own heart as it skips from blog to blog. Two days ago it went back to family vacations at Disneyland as my sister penned her “People Watching” post from a conference she was attending there (Musings from Dot). A day earlier my new blogging buddy Tammy (HeartString Quilts) took me back to my days of living on the west coast in her “Oregon” post. And early on in the Challenge fellow music lover Horst (Tangents) filled my memory with melodies I love in his “Classical Music” post. My mind stops to visit and my heart goes along for the ride.

Heart travels were therefore already on my mind last evening when a flesh-and-blood new friend visiting our home for the first time talked about the places his had been lately. He noted that when he was in full pursuit of the presence of God in his life, things had been going well for him. Since he had turned his attention elsewhere, his life had nose-dived into a downward spiral. He was simply longing to return to a spot where he once found peace and comfort, joy and rest.

Places of the heart call to us all, and whether we attempt to identify those longings with people or places or particular moments in our past, they eventually can be traced to a God-shaped longing to return to Love we once knew. The Bible says that even Creation groans to be reunited with its Maker at His return, and neither can we as part of that Creation escape the pull of our heavenly heartstrings. The longer we live, the more strongly they draw us, until the tent-pegs that keep us grounded in this physical reality are pulled at the moment of our death, and our spirits can finally wing their way Home.

“That’s why I don’t think there’s any comparison between the present hard times and the coming good times. The created world itself can hardly wait for what’s coming next. Everything in creation is being more or less held back. God reins it in until both creation and all the creatures are ready and can be released at the same moment into the glorious times ahead. Meanwhile, the joyful anticipation deepens.”
(Romans 8:18-21 TM)

There's No Place Like HOME

As I’ve participated in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge this year, I’ve visited the host website almost more times than I can count. After stopped in repeatedly in the months and days before the Challenge began to make sure I didn’t miss anything and to help myself get ready for the event itself. I moved about the site, of course, checking out the various tabs, but anytime I found myself suddenly lost in a world of words, I’d hit the “Home” button and immediately find myself back where I started. On any website, I’ve found that “Home” brings me back from where I’ve wandered and centers my thoughts once more.

In my writing in general, I have a mental “Home” button that I push deliberately at times when I feel that I’m getting too caught up in the process or its results and have forgotten why I picked up a pen in the first place. I go back to where I started, refocus on my purpose, and proceed once more.

In my several decades of living thus far I’ve had many places that I’ve called “home”. I’ve lived in six states for various lengths of time and mentally picture my residences in each, smiling with delight at the memories despite the occasional difficulties with the people I lived with, the sparsity of the furnishings, or the beauty (or lack of the same!) of the natural surroundings. It was what my heart felt at each location that was important, not where my physical body found itself. The places I lived have never lost their status in my mind, even after I’d moved out and moved on; there are several places I still call “home”.

I noticed the same when I visited a church I’d been a part of for 21 years before a job transfer prompted a move to one closer to where we lived. When I walked in the door that evening, I could still sense the power of the spiritual experiences we had and the love we felt in the place in years gone by. I felt as though I’d come home. Something inside of me rose up at that thought, as if in acknowledging it I was somehow being disloyal to the body of believers I belong to now. I disregarded it quickly, as “home” just means a place where your heart feels comfortable; a place where it once found great joy.

Soon followed thoughts of my eternal Home. A lot of the anticipation of Heaven centers on the new things we‘ll see and people we‘ll meet. But the greatest joy of eventually walking through the heavenly gates my be the feeling of finally getting back to the place our souls began…a place our hearts have been longing to return to from the moment of our birth.

From wherever we’ve wandered, it takes more than just clicking a button on a keyboard or the heels of your shoes together to return. This day after Easter it’s good to remember that as much as we are dying to get there, Jesus actually did so, to ensure that we could.

“In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you.”
(John 14:2 NIV)