Some days you just need to go on a Sunday drive–a ‘run away’ respite to clear your mind and your heart. After church this morning, I was in a retrospective heart and head space and headed toward Dacusville and my childhood ‘roots’. Very few remnants are left from the old family home place and Grandpa’s store on Earl’s Bridge Road – but if you look hard enough those remarkable memories are still there. My mindful heart went back to my beloved MeMaw – and those early years of my life that she was still here with us. Her cavernous, enveloping hugs–jumping into her lap in her chair hugging onto her Bible and her afternoon ‘stories’ (soaps). I felt safe there. I remember the days that I would ‘run away’ when I didn’t get my way and Mother would help me ‘pack’ my suitcase and I would head to MeMaw (a long journey out the driveway to the store). Mother would call MeMaw on the party line and tell her I was on my way again and she would watch for me out the back door of the store. After a few hours always the same scenario, Mother would call on the party line ‘asking’ MeMaw if she had seen me and they would coax me into coming back home before supper.
Jesus tells the wonderful story of the Prodigal (that I have admittedly lived in real time in my life multiple times) to make a point to us – no matter how many times we pack our suitcase and try to run away, there is always a road (or a driveway) home. And no matter how far or how long we are away, just as Mother would stand out on the porch, open her arms and welcome me home–our Father does the same for us. Never mind what we’ve done. He’s always looking out ‘the driveway’ for us. Arms open wide. Just Come Home.
