First of all, no this is not a picture from the 1970s. This is a current picture that I took of the house where I used to live back in the day up until around 8th grade. Even when I lived in that house in the 70s, it never was that brown before.
It’s proof that while you can go back to places in the past, you can never truly go back to the past. The places aren’t the same and primarily you are not the same. The rooms may all be the same size as before and certain aspects may be just as they were before, but you can never be that 13-year old again.
I have happy memories that I made in that house, but I’m also glad that I’m not still the person I was at 13 living in that house. I’ve grown and changed. I’ve seen God in new ways and find that like Lucy said of Aslan in one of the Narnia books, I find that God is bigger to me because I’ve grown. I see in my maturing faith walk that my need of God never lessens but I see more of my need of God every day.
Still I miss that house. I miss many of the people I played with and talked to and shared life with in that house who are no longer with me. I still wish sometimes that I could climb inside a photograph or a memory and walk around in it for a bit before I come back to now.
I’m thankful that the house looks as good as it does, that it didn’t burn down or get run down. I’m thankful for every part of my story that brought me to where I am right now discovering more and more of the goodness of God.
One thought on “A Sort of Homecoming”
The last line of this post is profound. I feel the same way. Thank you for putting those feelings into words.