Be It Ever So Humble

I’ve been out on the road a bit lately, which I generally enjoy. I admit that even the simplest trip, even for a weekend or a day, seems to invigorate me. I just love being “out there,” meeting people and observing that which is unfamiliar. However, there comes a time when we simply want to be back at home. Eventually, our own beds, cars and acquaintances beckon to us. Even now, as I fly back from a whirlwind junket the draw of my comfortable little life tugs upon my weary heart strings. And I imagine it to be all the more so for my dear wife, who at this very moment is on a plane somewhere between here and Southeast Asia. She is returning from the disaster ravaged Southern tip of Sri Lanka, where she has been serving tsunami victims on behalf of our church. We haven’t been able to communicate much during the past ten days, but I know her surroundings have been utterly foreign to her and that she has been in the very midst of the destruction we all saw on news at the beginning of this year. I know for sure that she spent at least one day hiking through jungle and swamps while searching for additional bodies of tsunami victims. No doubt she longs for her own shower, her own bed, and the comfort and security of our welcome home far more then I. As we each wing our respective ways toward that unassuming little haven of rest, no words could ring truer than that tired old saying: “Be it ever so humble, there is no place like home.” Amen.

Coming Home
There is excitement on the road
And adventure along the way
New people and new places shine
And yet, there comes a day
When one longs for things familiar
For family and for friends
There is a sigh of comfort even
When the best of journeys ends
There is a thrill to wanderlust
And each man longs to roam
But nothing compares to the feeling
Of simply coming home
By Frank Carpenter ©