Coming Home

It’s really all in the coming home.

Coming home from seven days of not staring at computer screens.  Coming home from a whole glorious week of laughter and trying new things and watching our kids face each experience in their own unique way.   Coming home from maid service.  Coming home from eating out every. single. meal.  Coming home from going swimming at 10:30 when the children should be sleeping.  Coming home from talking, so much talking, from smiles exchanged over kids’ heads.

And, what do we do with the coming home?

When the piles of laundry overwhelm us.  When the work sets in immediately.  When meetings and texts and phone calls and emails invade our secret little world of Just Us.  When we are tempted to wonder why all of this has to be.  Why we can’t just move to a deserted island and ignore the rest of the world forever.

And it’s there, in the coming home, that we find purpose.

Because the vacation is important.  It’s special.  It reaffirms our commitment to our family.  It reminds us the essentials of loving each other, focusing on each other, forcing time to slow down.  The vacation creates memories.  It breeds funny stories.  It finds inside jokes.

 

But, the vacation isn’t what our children will remember most about us.  It isn’t what makes or breaks our family.  It is simply a break from the kind of work that we usually do.

And, it is wonderful.

But, when we return to our day to day and vacation luggage explodes into a nice clean house, we would be foolish to wish for another week away.  Because this messy, imperfect, sometimes tough and often chaotic life is where the real memories are made.

Where we can see our kids’ faith grow because of a simple prayer for a missing cat.  Where loose teeth are discovered in two different mouths at teeth brushing time.  Where a simple trip to the store turns into a lesson in kindness.  Where obedience is taught with love to a rambunctious two year old.  Where children sing about Jesus to help lull themselves to sleep.  All of these things happened in the first ten hours home, and as wonderful as our vacation was, these are the moments that really matter.

So, when the post-vacation blues try to get me down, I just think back on my own childhood.  What I remember about my parents isn’t where they took me on vacation or which hotel we stayed in.  What I remember is funny moments around the dinner table.    Board games.  Running through the sprinkler.  Prayers at bedtime.  Church.  Hard lessons.  And love.  So much love.

I’m so glad we got to go on a vacation this year.  It meant so much to me, and I’ll carry the memories with me forever.  But, I’m also so glad for the coming home.  For the meaning in it.  For the purpose set before me.  For the this-is-real-life of it.  Because in the coming home is where we have to rely on faith, rely on God, and persevere in the growing and leading and raising of these children.

It’s really all in the coming home.

I’m glad to be back.