There's nothing worse than dreading going home.
When you've had a long day, and an even longer drive, but you're driving slower than you need to, in order to stay away longer. Or when it is cold, raining and windy, and the idea of curling up in front of a fire, under a blanket is so appealing, but the desire to escape is more so. Or when you could have had a lie-in, but would much rather go and sit in a coffee shop, in order to get some peace and quiet, even if people do keep leaving the door open and you get cold.
Yep! I totally understand how these situations are often more beneficial than being in the house.
I remember driving up the motorway one day about three years ago, and realised I'd stopped calling where I lived, "home" referring to it as "the house" instead. A home is a place of safety. A refuge. A sanctuary away from the world, isn't it? So why should I call it home, when t felt more tense there than anywhere else.
So, why am I reflecting on this now, two years after I left that house? Because having been out from half 10 this morning for a hair appointment, and having to do a bit of shopping, and find some gloves for that skydive I'm doing in 6 days…. I realised that I didn't want to go into a coffee shop… I wanted to go home.
In fact, I really couldn't wait to go home.
Home. My place of sanctuary from the world, where I sometimes sit, listening to the rain on the conservatory roof and am in awe that this….this is mine.
And it is home.
This the healing journey I've been on, and when moments like these hit me, I know that walking away from destruction was hard, but the benefit of making the decision to trusting God, is worth it more than you can ever imagine.