Coming Home

I can't remember the last time I was here.

In the silence, the stillness, the waiting. Taking time to sit and be. Be still. To remind myself of what is important and what is like snow, melting away before I can fully grasp it.

I come, tentatively. So many weeks it has been since I was in this place. Tentatively I wait, nervous. I speak into the quietness.

'Father? Are you there? I'm sorry it has been so long. I've been so busy, doing your work, helping people, honouring you in my degree, in my life... I just haven't had the time to visit. Dad, I'm sorry. But look how much I've done, Dad! Look! Dad! Dad? Are you there? Father? Where are you?!'

'Child.'

One word, and peace reigns within my soul. His word, soaked in love, in adoration, soothes my troubled heart.

'Child, I have missed you', He says quietly.

'I'm sorry Father', I reply, knowing full well that my excuses are poor, and my apology unjustified. 'I'm sorry, but look at...'

'No' he says, 'No. It is not about what you have done. Your eagerness to please brings me joy, and your work has not gone unnoticed but, child, my child, I have missed your presence. Your sitting with me, chatting to me about your day, your life, your worries and your joys. I have missed you being quiet with me. I have missed you listening to the whisper of my voice, feeling the cool breeze of my peace, the soothing balm of my love. I have missed the time we spent together everyday. I am so pleased you have returned. Would you sit with me again, child? I delight in your presence.'

'Daddy', I whisper, realising with those words how deeply I have longed for his presence. 'Daddy', I say, 'Daddy, I've come home'. And it is there, as I collapse into His arms of grace, love and forgiveness, that I finally find what I've been looking for all along - home.