I write in blogs of three and once in a while six or seven. I was on the beautiful Campus of Southern Illinois University University @ Carbondale this morning as well as on a trip to the Woods. I was amazed that many of the Campus trees are already resplendent with blossoms. When I saw them I wondered if winter had really taken place or if it was but a cold dream. This is our life. As we are coming home we find ourselves in what appears to be inextricable circumstances. We ask where has the Sun gone and if has God hidden from our upturned faces.

As I was progressing in my career it seemed that retirement was out of my grasp. Reversals happened and a bad supervisor or two. I would look out my window and see the happy retirees and what appeared to be their carefree lifestyle and wonder how that feeling of freedom must feel. I watched my friends travel and enjoy the fruits of their labors as I was pushing the stone uphill like Sisyphus. When it rolled back down I wondered if life is but a long-playing 33 & 1/3 vinyl record. When the needle reaches the end the listener simply places it back at the beginning.

I moved from Eldorado the day after I graduated from Eldorado High School. I had plans to become a minister and study the Bible and do anything that was not in Eldorado. Now that I have become old nothing pleases me more than a photography trip to Eldorado. Mom woke me each morning with her battle cry of ‘Hit The Deck…You Rubberneck!’ I can see the 57′ Chevy full of myself and mom and Jackie Brooks and often my cousin Brenda on our way to Pounds Hollow to swim and eat hot dogs and hamburgers while away the summer hours.

Home is contained in our hearts and it is projected onto our environment. Our sense of place is a spiritual thing and is different for each of us. Home is my sons Aaron and Jonathon. Home is MJ and we will celebrate our 45th anniversary on the 24th of this month.

You remember how you felt when you were so sick and you thought that you might die. Then, suddenly you were well again and the weeping of the night gave way to the joy of the morning?

Perhaps we must learn to enjoy rolling the stone up the hill as our honest and dignified vocation. We are getting our exercise and building muscle. We do not have time for worry as the stone takes most of our concentration and focus.

Reflection is important to our arrival home. The surprises that we were taken aback by that turned out to be good things for us and that pointed us home. The love that was shown to us and that is being demonstrated to us by our fellow homeward-bound travelers…is inspiring! Our lives have many chapters and each of them is part of our story. Enjoy your homeward-bound story as you put the key in the lock of the front door and enter into refuge and safety and hope and peace.