I welcome a guest blog from my grandson-in-law, Ted Voigt. He and Sarah, with my two great-grandkids, are missionaries in Ireland with the Church of the Nazarene. They have started their travels in the U.S.A. this month. He’s a good writer and I couldn’t pass up sharing his reflection here, for it touched my heart strings.

“We have a complicated relationship with the idea of home. The main idea of home for us is of course where we live, but for Sarah and I, where we live doesn’t always feel like home. And then, of course we are traveling around the U.S. and it doesn’t feel like home anymore either, even though what we’re doing is sometimes called ‘home assignment.’

“Having said that: I spent a few days with my parents in a place that is for me more like home than anywhere else. I went swimming in the pool where I learned to swim. I cooked in the kitchen where I learned how to cook. I drove the streets where I learned to drive. I watched a baseball game with the people who taught me to watch baseball. I prayed in the church where I learned to pray.

“If you’ve ever gone back to a place you once knew, you’ve had the experience of being amazed at both the things that change and the things that stay the same. My high school has been leveled and rebuilt, while the dairy where we got milk is completely untouched by the passage of time.

“Most of my meals lately have been more about ‘who’ than ‘what,’ and I think the very best ones have been simple home-cooked dinners. That’s a rare treat while traveling, and I’m always grateful for food cooked by friends and family.

“Spending time in this place is always a reminder to me of who I am and where I’ve come from. So much of my quirks and slants can be attributed to the years I spent with the people and places of my childhood, and remembering that and owning it gives me a new confidence going forward as me.”                                ~Ted Voigt 6/22/2018

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I love the Lord. To those I love I am wife, mother, granny, great-granny. To my corner of the world I am a writer.

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