This morning after Sunday service, I believe I saw one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed.
For several months now our twenty-month-old son, Sweet Baby Ray, has had a bit of a problem with separation anxiety, especially when it comes to his mother being out of sight. He often pitches a fit that sounds as if someone is skinning the boy alive. We get it… he loves his Mama but goodness gracious son! Needless to say, he hasn’t liked going to the church nursery through Sunday school and the later church service. Sometimes he figures out where we’re going on the road heading to church and begins throwing a pre-fit.
So after service this morning, my daughters and I were walking down the hall to retrieve the young man from the nursery. As we reached the door, which was packed with other parents having their own joyful reunions with toddlers, it seemed that time slowed down for a few seconds, almost as if I was supposed to see this wonderful glimpse of life play out in great detail. When some of the parents faded back with their children, we could see Ray playing on a colorful, padded half-circle toy the nursery came equipped with. He saw the commotion at the door, but seemed to be having too much fun to care. Then he caught a familiar shape out of the corner of his eye and you could almost hear him think out loud as he snapped back a second look, “HEY, there’s my SISSY!!!” I’ve never seen the boy move so fast as he leapt from the padded toy into his sister’s waiting arms. His smiles and joy took the place of any fun he was having in the nursery because he knew we were headed home. No more nursery, as good as it was. Home and his family are WAY better. Beautiful scene.
So as I continued down the hall to head for the car, my mind and heart were flooded with thoughts and feelings about the “nursery” we’re all in right now. We may have a fun place to play with colorful, padded, half-circles and baskets full of puzzles and toy distractions. We may have some of the best snacks and juice drinks this “nursery” has to offer. There may be plenty of grown-ups that love us and friends our age to play with. We may even have the opportunity, if we so choose, to take a nap while we’re here and sleep away the troubles we anxiously worry through. But when it comes down to it, there’s nothing like going home. Nothing.
Someday our Big Brother will come and retrieve us when the service is over, although time won’t slow down. Like a flash of lightning or as fast as a steel traps snaps closed, He will show up at the door of our “nursery”, scoop us up into His arms, and take us home. Nothing will matter of the world we’re leaving behind. Not our house or the t-bone cooking on the grill. Not the laundry we need to finish or those dirty dishes in the sink. Not the back nine holes on the prettiest day of the week or the final coat of wax on the mustang. The dogs will go hungry, the bills won’t get paid, and the grass will grow tall. WE ARE GOING HOME!!! We’ll hold onto Him tightly and smile like we’ve never smiled before. He’ll take us away to see our Father and it will finally be time to go home.
I’m homesick… again.
