We celebrate; we remember; we join together; we laugh or cry; we honor; we remember! Recently two birthdays were celebrated in our home, their home place, the location that holds all their early memories. They no longer live here. We do. We are family, sisters by marriage, sisters within my heart, sisters for all eternity.
Family members gathered; children, grandchildren, siblings, those that had gone on before. All were there in real-time, and in times past.
The house, the home remembers; the walls, the floors, the rooms remember; hearts remember. Celebrations ongoing through the years have accumulated to fill the airspace within with laughter, joy, tears, and fears. The house, the home remembers; hearts remember. Even those of us who were not there in real-time, have been told stories that ring with the truth of life. We are there; we imagine, we envision, we honor those present, those past. We are left with an image, an indentation, an impression, a mark upon our hearts forever.
Blessed are they that can still touch, feel, remember along with the home place, those times not so very long ago. Celebrations continue; life goes on; hearts unite; souls commune as only souls can; I am an adopted child of this precious home; I have added my own memories to those present and those past. I am blessed; I celebrate; I remember; I am oh so very grateful and thankful, Dear Lord, for this place I can now call home. Amen
Isaiah 32:18 God’s Word Translation
My people will live in a peaceful place,
in safe homes and quiet places of rest.
Blest Be The Tie That Binds
Author: John Fawcett (1782)
Blest be the tie that binds
our hearts in Christian love;
the fellowship of kindred minds
is like to that above.
Before our Father’s throne
we pour our ardent prayers;
our fears, our hopes, our aims are one,
our comforts and our cares.
We share our mutual woes,
our mutual burdens bear,
and often for each other flows
the sympathizing tear.
When we are called to part,
it gives us inward pain;
but we shall still be joined in heart,
and hope to meet again.
This glorious hope revives
our courage by the way;
while each in expectation lives
and waits to see the day.
From sorrow, toil, and pain,
and sin, we shall be free;
and perfect love and friendship reign
through all eternity.
Esther M. Clark Hill, “Home,” in Kansas City Star, 1920
There’s never a sky that shelters us
Like the one that glows above
The broad gray roof that is covering those
Of the blood and the name we love.
There’s never a pleasant, sunlit road
In all the ways we roam
Like the little, narrow, familiar street
That runs by the door of home.
A mark, indentation, figure, etc., produced by pressure;
an image in the mind caused by something external to it.