June 25, 2021
Gently updated 6-6-22
Why do they say you can’t go home? Is it true? Some say you’ve got home right in your heart. I do.
Come look at “home” — including where you came from, and how to get there.
Trees, Dirt, and Air: All you need to make a childhood.
Six barefoot children play together under a massive oak tree, climbing over the gnarled roots.
A small girl digs with a metal cup in the improvised sandbox between the impossibly high roots of the tree. Her focus is fixed on a mission known only to her.
Two children, sometimes three, share a tire swing, legs and arms intertwined as they cling together. The chain twists and groans as the swing spins. Then the direction reverses, and single bare arms extend to catch the breeze.
One child scrambles off and runs along the dirt, pushing the swing as far as possible before jumping on to ride again.
An older boy stands precariously on the back of a large metal bench swing, shouting of his momentary victory over an imagined enemy. Catlike and seemingly weightless, he jumps down and scampers to a rusty bicycle. Bare feet on the pedals, he skids across the dirt to the squeals of the little girls.
The positions continually change, and the conversations as well. Girls run from boys holding wiggly earthworms. Challenges are issued to find four-leaf clovers. Someone starts a game of hide-and-seek among the thorny wild plum trees.
Honeysuckle blossoms are pulled from the vine, and practiced small hands retrieve the single drop of nectar in each for waiting tongues.
The entire group gathers limbs and sticks for a never-to-be-finished fort. Participants eventually tire of vying for powerful military positions, and construction is abandoned.
Thirsty mouths gulp from the water hose held by the one elected most trustworthy, though at any moment the drinks could be changed to an unexpected shower.
It’s an ordinary day, with all those dirty bare feet, the hand-me-down clothes, and the laughter, as a hot summer day unfolds in rural Georgia.
The adults are inside, fanning themselves and quietly talking. Even when we quietly creep beneath the window screen to listen, we don’t understand grown-up talk. And we know if we ask later, the answers won’t make sense.
But it doesn’t matter to us. We would never waste our time inside.
We are loud, happy, carefree. These children are my sisters and my cousins, and we are making memories.
These activities? They are our current “assignment.” And we pursue our assignment with pleasure.
We’re doing exactly what we should be doing.
Making Memories
I adored my cousins. The boys were older, funny, strong, reckless, handsome. The girl — my age — will always be my heart twin.
She was a “rodeo girl” and taught me to ride horses. She drank coffee easily with the grownups, and could do anything with her mother’s sewing machine. She was captivatingly beautiful, and still is.
We stayed up late on our rare spend-the-night visits, contemplating the life ahead. Girl-questions about boys, beauty, life, marriage, makeup, fashion, all those important life issues. We giddily obsessed over a shampoo called “Gee Your Hair Smells Terrific” and rode horses around the lake.
The paint-chipped screen door of Granny’s house next door was slammed an impossible number of times. My aunt graciously ignored the noise, the kitchen invasions, and the mess. She chuckled at our conversations, and let us find our own fun as the hours passed.
Together we dreaded the end of our visits as the weekend showed signs of coming to a close. And time to go home.
The Springtime Of Life
This was the early budding of our lives, the freshness of childhood still fully present, and the curiosity of youth unfolding. Our “assignments” were so simple then.
Had we known the number of trials we would face, the heartbreaks, and particularly the number of tragedies ahead for her family, we could have never dreamed together of our futures.
Those carefree no-schedule days, and the freedom from care, made waking up to face the day pure pleasure.
Hot afternoons surrounded by the fragrance of hay and horse sweat would not have brought the same pleasure if we knew our tomorrows.
In fact, it is hard now to mentally place side by side the pictures of these little girls and the women of 60+, and comprehend all that occurred in the distance between the two images.
We continue to do life, at full speed ahead. But the odometer has climbed. The body that was once factory fresh is moving through the stages: gently used, classic, antique, or simply old.
The pages of our books are thicker, permanently warped, bent, and stained.
And the flag of her ship is more tattered, riddled with the events she has endured.
And as we enter the joy of being grandmothers together, I know that her journey took her the long way.
The view is not the same after the climb.
The whole picture looks completely different. We can see the hills and valleys, the shards and brambles we passed through, and the markers we left along each hairpin turn.
In fact, I wonder now what her recollection would be, if she were to write this brief summary of our lives together from her side of the mirror.
Looking Back, And Looking Ahead
As I look at my grandchildren through eyes that have viewed many journeys, I wonder what their cousin-paths will be. Or their brother-sister paths.
And I should not know. Neither should they.
Because they should dream. They should play imaginary games, and watch one another grow, and compare their notes along the way.
They should have lazy days listening to the music of the swing chains. Their feet should collect all the dirt possible before bathtime. The adults should chuckle at their antics.
They will be witnesses to the journeys soon enough. Child’s play will turn into youth dreams, and the grown-up pursuit will follow. Their stories will unfold, driven by providence, shaped by circumstances, framed by words and pictures.
A New Focus
My cousin and I no longer have spend-the-night events. We speak by phone of our current adventures and struggles. Our conversations are no longer about boys and makeup.
We know much more about something we experienced little of as children: Aftermath.
Aftermath. It seems to be the entirety of our existence at times. The aftermath of others, and the aftermath of ourselves.
Our assignments have evolved.
We talk about coping, and caring, and the collective events that placed us here.
We are no longer under the oak tree. But in my mind, the tire swing we spent time twisting is still unwinding.
And in reality, we can’t return to the swing and the days of innocence. We can’t erase the years and be children again. We’re somewhere else now.
We talk inside, as children play outdoors. And think about home.
Why Do They Say You Can’t Go Home?
Everyone goes home.
Can’t you?
Dorothy went home, right? Lots of people go home, don’t they? And mentally, I just felt like I went home for a few minutes, remembering childhood that way. Did I?
Is “going home” one of those deep and mysterious concepts, one that doesn’t exactly mean what it says?
It shouldn’t be. In simple everyday human terms, home is where you go after work, where you go after the ball game, where you go to sleep. It’s where you go at the end.
It’s home. Why is that such a “fuzzy” topic?
Why do they say you can’t go home?
What does “going home” mean?
Well, it doesn’t seem mysterious at all. After the journey is over, you go back to the place where you began.
If that settles it, we can dust our hands off and move on.
Just go back to where you began.
But that still doesn’t clear it up, does it?
Do you really know your beginning?
Your beginning in this world may seem like the moment your mother first held you in her arms.
The first time you were seen may seem like the beginning.
And the end seems like the moment we die, the last time we are seen.
But wait.
You know there is more to life than what you see.
The real beginning and the real end are not visible to us.
The real beginning was when God knew your name, when he planned to form your human body.
Thinking about the bigger picture is unsettling. Like suddenly we don’t have the exact grip on life that we thought we did.
And then there’s the other extreme – the end.
The real end is spoken of in puzzles and dreams. It’s confounding.
And we feel very “exposed” if we ask questions about it all.
We feel left out, like the smart people are fanning themselves and talking about things we don’t understand.
Even if we ask, the answers don’t make sense.
We’re always trying to catch up.
There’s a time like this that’s kind of famous, a time when somebody didn’t understand, but wanted to.
Remember the “born again” conversation in the Bible? It’s between Jesus and Nicodemus.
Sometimes I try to imagine the frowning face of Nicodemus as he asks the question.
“Born again?” he asks of Jesus.
I really try to picture it. Not just a mild frown, but a scowl. Maybe downright angry or frustrated, maybe indignant.
Because he can’t make any sense of what Jesus is telling him.
John 3:4-8 ESV
Nicodemus said to him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?”
Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”
Nicodemus is smart, and a leader. Is he embarrassed? Doubting? Stuck in some kind of misguided thinking?
There’s a message for Nicodemus and for us here.
The reason it’s all so confounding is this:
We can’t really see it.
We can’t “see” the concept of born again. We can’t “see” eternal life.
There’s no timeline diagram or Wikipedia picture to make it clear.
The REAL beginning and the REAL ending are not what we can see. They are way before and way after what we can see.
We are here, on our assignment, and the journey has brought much experience. God has given us wisdom.
But we don’t know what God knows.
We don’t even have the capacity to understand the answers to our questions. In fact, we can barely ask the questions.
Like Nicodemus, we just don’t know how to think of what we are told.
Just as children are innocent about how they arrived here, and what their long quest will entail, we are innocent about the things our heavenly father knows also.
Just as parents sit inside and fan themselves and speak of things that children don’t understand, God speaks of things that are mysterious to us.
It’s a struggle to grasp what’s being said.
There’s a key here. An important one.
Just because we don’t fully comprehend doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
Isn’t that what we do, though?
We hold up the lens of our understanding, and try to push everything into it.
What doesn’t fit into our lens gets discarded.
Is that right? Is that how we should test truth?
Like the “home” being prepared for us. How do we verify that truth? We can’t squish it into that lens we’re using. Does that mean it’s not true?
You know the answer.
It’s not the truth that has limitations. It’s our understanding.
Hebrews 11:13-16 ESV
These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.
Hebrews 13:14-21 ESV
For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come. Through him then let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name. Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God. Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with groaning, for that would be of no advantage to you. Pray for us, for we are sure that we have a clear conscience, desiring to act honorably in all things. …
Revelation 21:1-27 ESV
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” …
You saw all that, right?
Seeking a Homeland
A City That Is To Come
A New Heaven and A New Earth
A new place we cannot see.
Like Nicodemus, our tendency is to frown and ask what it means:
“It’s just gonna drop out of the clouds? Is that it?“
Because we are confused, fearful, and childlike. We long for what we can see, what we can understand.
Instead, we are given only what we can trust.
So do we? Do we trust the answer we don’t fully understand? The future we cannot see?
It’s a real question. About how you think about eternity.
How Do You Think About It? (Eternity)
- Do you feel settled about it, that you accept the promise? (Good. That’s the childlike faith/trust we’re instructed to have.)
- Or do you wrestle with the details, trying to get a handle on exactly how it will work? Because we want some kind of proof, something to “settle” how we think about it. (Good. Because you’re searching the Scriptures.)
- Or do you scowl and throw up your hands and say “forget it” — because it just doesn’t fit neatly into our planner or bullet journal or I-phone calendar? Or that lens we insist on using? (Hang in there. Don’t give up yet.)
You’re not alone. These positions are familiar to most believers.
Growing in faith is painful. It’s ugly. It’s hard. It’s costly.
But this is true: The Bible holds the answers.
The Bible holds the answers.
What if every quest for knowledge occurred completely under that umbrella of truth? That the Bible holds the answers?
What if this was your statement?
The Bible is true, and our questions should seek to eliminate the things outside the Bible that aren’t true.
Because you know what?
It’s tempting to get upside down. It’s tempting to grasp at a worldly concept, and use it to make efforts to disprove something in the Bible. That’s what the world does.
But the Bible keeps showing us truth. No matter how much people study, they still discover more.
More that was always there.
Wondering what that even means?
Here’s a good example: The discussion above, between Jesus and Nicodemus. All that talk about a mother’s womb, and the wind.
Look at this:
Ecclesiastes 11:5
As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things.
See what I mean?
That’s from Ecclesiastes, in the Old Testament! It was written a lot of years before this conversation took place. (If you’re interested, here’s a topic on Ecclesiastes from Blue Letter Bible.)
The point?
The question and the answer aren’t “just a conversation” like it seems.
It’s good to remember that there is more to it all than “just a story.”
Jesus is reminding Nicodemus that the Bible is true, that God’s promises are valid.
There’s more meaning to things than it seems, right?
Which brings it back to you and me.
There’s a time when we need to talk about grown-up things and leave our child’s play behind.
Why Do They Say You Can’t Go Home?
Well, maybe they mean you can’t go back to the innocence of your past.
That is easy to accept. The old reality has now become a memory.
And the idea of my future will someday be a reality. I can easily accept that.
What I’ll never accept is the denial of eternity.
Instead, I’ll acknowledge the limitation of my faulty lens.
I can go home. And I will.
The place I came from. Originally.
God will keep his promises, even when it seems impossible to me.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6
From Michael Youssef,
Counting Stars In An Empty Sky:
When God promised Abraham that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars in the sky, Abraham was childless. Yet through many obstacles, temptations, and even failures, Abraham became an example of faith as he learned to trust God’s promises regardless of circumstances.
How do you think about eternity?
How do you talk about it with others?
When did you become convinced that you could trust this thing you cannot see or understand?
You. High five and a hug to you for getting into my story and my questions today. Sometimes I think I like to wrestle with my thoughts more than the average bear.
You deserve a glass of lemonade or sweet tea and a cool breeze. In fact, you get on the swing and I’ll push. And then I’ll give you 15, no 25 honeysuckle blossoms.
Earlier, there was a post called What About People Who Just Announce. Did you see it? In that topic was a hard look at what’s being shown to us, and what we show to others, the most important thing.
You can also check out more topics. One on Grief after Someone’s Death, or What’s My Legacy?
If you want a much deeper look into the conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus, there’s a great article at Bible.org by a guy named Bob Deffinbaugh. If I didn’t wear you out with this today, give him a chance. He’s got a lot to say about that little born-again conversation.
Thank you! I am so glad you came. At GFP company is always welcome!
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It’s this: Overarching principles guide your thought processes.
For instance, the rules of your HOA must be considered when you’re making decisions about what to do with your home.
An absolute need to keep children safe guides decisions about their activities.
A pledge of faithfulness to a mate rules out improper thoughts or activities.
The more you know about overarching principles, the more you incorporate them into your thoughts.
And the more your decisions align with your intentions.
Overarching principles guide your thought processes. Always know what they are. Not just the rules; The truth.
What would it be like to think a little more about eternity, and talk with others about it?
Study what Scripture says.
Together we need to reach the point we can trust what we can’t see or understand.
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