More Glimpses

Glimpses

(written by Harley Castleberry)

"Home"

I had been watching a TV documentary about a World War II bomb group stationed in Southeast Asia.  They had survived yet another mission and were ready to return to base as the pilot asked, “How do we get home.”  I was too young to serve in WWII and often wonder if, and how I would have stood up to the nerve wracking pressures of combat.  The older I get, the better my comprehension of what some of those circumstances must have been like.  “Better comprehension,” but light years away from the real thing.  As I watched this program that night, I contemplated the teamwork of the entire plane’s crew, a necessary function for the safety of all. It was a matter of life and death.  And then, with that pilot’s single question to the navigator, I thought of the responsibility passed to that lone individual, to do his job perfectly and plot a course to return to base before their fuel supply was depleted.  At that point, I would want a good navigator – one I could trust.  I would want a navigator that could direct me over or around dangerous mountain peaks and over green valleys far below.  One that could find the shortest route across deep and turbulent waters.  Different segments of the presentation were introduced by title slides; white letters on black background.  “How do we get home?” was one of those slides.  But the one that stirred me deep within was the slide that immediately followed – “home”.

“Home” is a common word that is sprinkled liberally throughout our conversations and in our correspondence.  “Home” is one of those words that we unconsciously pick up at an early age.  Home to the flyers that I had been observing was an air field, hacked out of jungle, flooded in the monsoon season, plagued with mosquitoes, cursed with malaria and smothered with extreme heat and mold.  To the plane crew, this is the place they currently sought most, a safe haven, their buddies, food, showers, and cots – “home.”

That single slide with one word, “home,” opened my eyes to a fuller meaning of such a simple, common word.  I sat comfortably in my “home” watching the agonizing history of a great world war.  I frequently think of the many conveniences in our homes that we take for granted.  I can think back to how my grandparents lived, on the cutting edge of technology – outdoor toilets, one water faucet in the whole house (in the kitchen), no hot water heater, wash tub baths, raising and canning their own food, not even an electric fan and I don’t want to go there again.  Been there, done that and got the mosquito and chigger bites to prove it!  And then, following that, for some reason, I thought about King Solomon – the richest man in the world in his day.  What portion of his wealth would he have given for air conditioning, or telephones, indoor plumbing and a water heater?  Maybe he would be interested in a marvelous black and white TV?  How much would he up the ante for say, a big screen color set?  We live like royalty and think nothing of it!  We, in this country, are blessed far beyond our level of comprehension and thankfulness.  Why was I born in the USA, and at that specific time in history?  Why are so many born into a lifetime of poverty and disease, caused by the lack of rudimentary health knowledge?  How am I to share my good fortune?  Am I doing what I was placed here to accomplish? 

Home is where we want to be when we are ill and hurting.  Home is that comfortable place where we are always accepted even with our known flaws.  Home is family, and no one will ever love us like family!  Home is where we acquire our basic values, and many of life’s skills.  Home is that cozy place – away from everything else.

Home is where I can sit in the quiet, and in the silence hear the sounds of days gone by.  Sounds made by three boys still living at home.  Heart stopping sounds coming from upstairs that sound like railroad cars being switched or a wall falling.  After a frantic run up the stairs and inquiring, “What was that?  What happened?”  Then comes the innocent reply from three young boys, almost caught red-handed, “What was what?”  With no loss of life, no gaping hole in the floor or ceiling, and the walls still standing, I would proceed back downstairs wondering indeed, “What was that?”

Home is that place where you grew up, and as you drive back by it, you think, “Somehow it seemed bigger than that.”  Home is that place where you visit a surviving parent, and feel a vacuum, or a hole in the atmosphere that the other parent used to occupy.  It’s that same place that you walk through and practically everything you see evokes a different memory.  Home is looking into your old bedroom and thinking how care free and innocent your life once was.  That old house is filled with memories of laughter, and holidays, and relatives, of home cooked meals, and also memories of times of sadness.

Home is where you are raising your family.  It’s where the whole process is being repeated – hopefully correcting some of the things that you experienced growing up that you perceived as unjust.  And, in repeating that process, we all develop a better sense of where our parents were coming from, with some of their actions and decisions.  Things have a way of looking different from the adult side of the fence.  As we assume the role of parents and hopefully mold that pliable new clay into useful human beings, we also need a navigator by our sides.  We need to be on a true heading to complete this awesome task.  Parents are the catalyst that can make successful, happy descendents, but we too need guidance that can see us through trying times.

A home can be a mansion or a shack.  It can be afloat at sea, or a cabin on a mountainside.  It may be well kept, or in a run down condition, but if it provides shelter and a safe haven, it can be a “home.”  Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.  As time passes and we grow older and wiser, it becomes more and more evident that one of these days we will be called away from the home we occupy.  This is a matter of life and death, only this time with eternal consequences.  More than ever, as that time approaches, we need to ask our Navigator, “How do we get home?”

Our heavenly Navigator has promised to prepare new homes for us.  In the land where these homes are built, we will never have to battle earthly struggles again.  We can put down our burdens.  Never again will we have to worry about war, sickness, poverty, infirmity or death.  All those things will be forever in the past.  And all those past family members and friends who sought out the Navigator in their lives, will be there with us!  At last, we will all truly be “home."

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