"No more a stranger, or a guest, but like a child at home"

   

This last week I got a call from a sister in our ward on a Monday morning.  First, this is a sister with whom we are well acquainted, but have little in common. So her call though welcome was unexpected. She asked me if I would take the opportunity to teach our ward's 3rd lesson on the 'Sabbath Day.' I said, "Yes" as I jump at most chances to teach. However, upon pressing for further guidance on what approach or angle the presidency wanted, was given little help. This is good and bad as it gives lots of range to find your path, but makes finding that path more of a journey in itself. 

      Later that day I was going about my day and turned on the MOTAB--just for insight this is not a typical thing in my driving line up. I have 2 small children, and the choir is something reserved for Sundays.  As I skipped past songs that just didn't fit where I was mentally, I finally stopped on 'My Shepherd shall Supply My Need.' I listened to the melody and enjoyed the setting of Pslam 23. Upon turning down the road I found myself crying listening to the  last verse of the song. Thus, the title of the post. Like a child at home caught me. I moved out of the house before I graduated from high school in Utah. From then on I have been expected to create my own home. It was my calling to set the tone and spirit for good or bad. Even upon returning from school, my whole family and world had been seemingly dissolved into some viscous fluid that was unrecognizable from the firm structure I had grown up with. Like a child at home is the smirk I have on my face when friends go home for the summer. The smirk comes because in my life there is no such place if I don't create it. The smirk is one of longing, because I wish that place existed for every child of God. The truth that there is no place to run if I fail is why I have to smirk. There is no safety net for me if I fall off the tight rope. It is either smirk or cry, because a place to just be safe without the work of making a place safe is what I think we all long for; what I want to create for my kids.

        As I continued to ask for guidance through the week the analogy was expanded further. Our Father wants to have us check in for Sunday dinner.  In our church, there is a table set before us set with the sacrament. A Father willing to give His only Begotten simply wants his other children to check in as often as possible. He wants to know how the week went. He wants to see your face, hear your voice, and enjoy your company. He longs to have you close. That is the purpose of the Sabbath, the chance to take our thoughts home, our worship to be a little closer to heaven. Sure at church there are callings (chores), siblings( ward families) that don't get along perfectly, and the task of keeping everyone in a semblance of order for 3 hours in church attire. BUT that is home. It is safe to be there--even for the one who always feels out of place.

     In my study I found that the word 'diligence' comes from Latin. the roots include: " diligere "single out, value highly, esteem, prize, love; aspire to, be content with, appreciate," originally "to pick out, select," from dis- "apart" (seedis- ) + legere "choose, gather"

     I love that when you put the root with the modern sense of the word you get something close to dutiful devotion due to the love and respect for the the subject.  That is what I hope my life can evolve to. Something that is devoted because of love. Devoted to my family, devoted to goodness, to making things a bit brighter each day because of loving those I serve. 

So until I get to that point, I will remember this Good Friday, and every other day, that it is because of His death that I can have new life each day. That I can start anew each day, and stop the world once a week to refocus on what matters most. Because of Him I have hope that not all is lost, and that there is still an aspiration in my heart to be like a child in His home forever.

My reason for trying to make a home.