Janet

Janet

Coming Home

Reading Time: 3 minutes

At the height’s of Dad’s active alcoholism, Brother Pointer took him to Alcoholics’ Anonymous. I don’t know too much about that car ride for dad, frankly can’t imagine how it came about. Its hard to imagine Dad going, I didn’t know he had that kind of relationship with our neighborhood Missionary Baptist minister, but that trip marked the start of Dad’s sobriety.

Living every day without drinking, by the grace of a Higher Power, would last until Dad died. In that very beginning of sobriety though, Dad would perform the twelve step program by living in a dormitory, with his sponsor, for a month, away from us. Living away from us. That seemed ominous. I remember the fear and hope in my Mother’s eyes and I remember after Dad had been gone for about two weeks, late one night, we were able to visit him in the dormitory he stayed in that month. My dad’s eyes carried the same tender, fragile hope I had seen in my mother’s, that trusting God to do something nothing else had been able to accomplish was going to work this time. I remember him explaining why he was living away from us.

“I’’ll be home soon, Janet. They do this in the program because it helps, its essential, to get away from the environment. You need to be able to step back and out, to see where you are. What you have become.”

We returned late last night from vacation. On the plane coming home, as I was mulling over things in my mind, strangely enough the memory of dad coming home from the dormitory kept coming up.

On this vacation I got to see a new country. I got to meet people whose lives have been spent in different pursuits than mine, of people who govern themselves differently, and who have a different history than mine. As good as it all was, I thought about sleeping in my own bed last night. I reveled a bit in relaxing in my own tub and enjoying food that has benefited from our closeness to Mexico. I thought about home. 

I wish for you this happy Monday, that whatever respite you need, whatever change in scenery you are planning, whether for vacation or the need to step out of where you are and see where you need to go, that you trust God to have the strength and grace to protect you while you are gone, teach you what He wants you to know while you are there, and trust that He always brings you back home.  

Quote for the day: Home is where the heart is, The soul’s bright guiding star. Home is where real love is, Where our own dear ones are. Home means someone waiting To give a welcome smile. Home means peace and joy and rest And everything worthwhile. –Author Unknown

Song for the week: 

He Carries Me.
Written by Cory Morrow/Liz Rose/Walt Wilkins 

There are smiles on the faces of the people passing by 
There are scars on their hearts that they hide 
Faithful and fragile doubting their paths 
Carry the weight of the world on their backs 
I know they’ve got a long way to go 
Yes, I know we’ve got a long way to go 

Chorus: 
But I know every day I’m lucky just to breathe the air I breathe 
And I hope everyone can feel this love that’s bustin’ out of me 
And sometimes I forget to forgive even me 
Sometimes I stumble that’s when he carries me 
Sometimes I stumble that’s when he carries me (oh yeah, yeah) 

Morning wakes uncertain what will come 
I will question where my happiness comes from 
I’ve lived in castles and out on the streets 
I’m still seduced by the demons that make me weak 
I know I’ve got a long way to go 
Yes, I know we’ve got a long way to go 

Repeat Chorus: 
But I know every day I’m lucky just to breathe the air I breathe 
And I hope everyone can feel this love that’s bustin’ out of me 
And sometimes I forget to forgive even me 
Sometimes I stumble that’s when he carries me 
Sometimes I stumble that’s when he carries me 

We’ve all suffered on this road we travel on 
It is cold, it is lonely and it is dark 
Aw, but there is hope and it’s hope that carries on 

Repeat Chorus: 
And I know every day I’m lucky just to breathe the air I breathe 
And I hope everyone can feel this love that’s bustin’ out of me 
And sometimes I forget to forgive even me 
Sometimes I stumble that’s when he carries me 
Sometimes I stumble that’s when he carries me (oh yeah)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

Recent posts!

do it!

for more, much more...

All the ideas, advice, and opinion six decades can provide… and maybe a little wisdom.

do it!

for more, much more...

All the ideas, advice, and opinion six decades can provide… and maybe a little wisdom.