Saturday, July 16, 2011

There's no place like home . . .

Familiar places, familiar foods, familiar sounds and scents, they are part of the feelings of contentment. It's not utopia, the cost of living has risen here just as in other places, it's the year for state elections in Mississippi and the commercials are tiresome as I remember them in the last two states where we have lived. But, it's home! I'm not even a native Mississippian, but it's where most of my roots are sunk and it's home.

My little house is beginning more and more every day to look like home thanks to friends, both old and new who have come to help unpack, put away things and help decorate. The unpacking and putting away is more time consuming and tiring than anything else, but I don't have a decorating bone in my body. The bonus in having them come, of course, is the visiting. What would I do without friends to help make this house my home?

I'm settling into my kitchen and that makes everyone happy. In the past week I've put up a bushel of lady peas, made a cobbler kind of dessert for church night supper and I have a sour cream pound cake in the oven right now. I have fresh peaches to put on top if anyone wants that. Of course, Tom thought it was sacrilege to put anything on his cake. He never thought there was anything in the house to eat if there wasn't a sour cream pound cake in the pantry. I haven't had a kitchen with this much counter space since we left Jackson, MS. I love it!!!! Tom would love it. When I can cook, I know it's home.

As contented as I am, I cannot forget that this world is not my home. There are many mansions in my Father's house and there is a room waiting for me. At times I try to imagine what that room will be like. I can only believe that the home I love now, the contentment I feel will not begin to compare to what awaits in heaven. I have thought a lot this year of those who have gone ahead. Obviously, I think of Tom, but also of several friends who have passed since he did in February: Bob Harris, Pat Pattillo, Larry Huggett, Larry Rhodes, Elma Allender, Shannon Kruser and our dear, dear Bob Bohn. I know there are others. These are freshest on my mind. I see Bob Harris's twinkling blue eyes, hear him sharing his Navy experiences; there is Pat with his infectious smile looking for a pinochle game; Larry Huggett knows from experience, now, that "God is good; all the time God is good" and is ready to get everyone singing; Larry Rhodes is telling of his travels, being an encourager; Elma and Shannon speak softly as they share their tender hearts; and there is Bob with his gift of hospitality, ready to entertain with stories of his life. Tom is in good company. Whether my sanctified imagination is stretching things or not, I don't know, but I remember such good times with these folks on earth that I know it has to be even better in heaven. One day I'll be able to say: "Without a doubt, there is truly no place like home."

Pastor Margaret

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