Traveling Home

Photo by grandma613 at morguefile.com

This week has been a whirlwind of rescheduling as we cleared our schedule for Grandma's funeral today, but I'm glad we could be there. The ceremony was sweet with memories shared by my uncle, and I cherished the time with my cousins during lunch.

On the trip home as our car bumped along the backroads of Wisconsin, I buried myself in a book. Ironically, I was reading about how Greek philosophers compared death to the journey home, an image that resonates with my soul.

When dusk fell and the words became blurry, I closed my book and gazed at the pink clouds wisping across the sky. I searched for words to sum up the day, but my wisdom falls far short of the great philosophers. I did decide what not to say. I'm not saying good-bye.

I'd rather whisper, "Welcome home, Grandma. Welcome home."

For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 2 Corinthians 5:1 (ESV)