Home and Peace

January 17, 2006

It is not that I am perfect -- far from it. And it is not that I need to shy away from improvement -- just the opposite. And yet, the world has no shortage of barbs and arrows to cast at me, and no shortage of pain to pour upon my brow. This, I accept without complaint, for such is the nature of the universe. I cannot ask for the world to treat me with tenderness -- that would be asking too much.

And then, there is home. Home is not necessarily a place -- for a house is not a home. Home is where we can find sanctuary and shelter from those worldly bolts. Home is where we can find some tranquility amid a torrential world. Home is where we can find peace amid a violent and raging exterior world.

I cannot with reason seek to avoid battle, because life would not be so caring toward me. Life will not kiss me good morning, nor will it tuck me in at night. I need no such soft life, for the world is hard. What I ask -- and what I hope is not too unreasonable to seek -- is a life in which, no matter how hard the rain may pour and how fiercely the heavens may thunder, I may still find home to be a place which will be warm and safe.

I hope I don't ask too much. I seek this, for in truth, happiness is found in peace. And my hope is that, at home, I may find that peace.