AT HOME IN MY HEART EXCERPTS
Jesus looked down at my front porch and spoke gently, almost in a whisper: “You need a new welcome mat.”
Embarrassed, I glanced down at the frayed piece of straw on my front porch and realized my welcome mat had become fuzzy and worn. Maybe I had even turned it upside down or bleached the words right off in one of my cleaning fits. The word, “Welcome’” was no longer visible.” – from “A Welcome Place”
Like many who struggle with grief, my system shut down for a time in shock. Questions flooded like a river: “Why didn’t I call sooner?” “Why did he have to leave this world so soon?”
As wives, moms, and friends, we also become caretakers of others’ burdens. What woman hasn’t on more than one occasion cried, ‘Enough!’? What better refuge than to run to our Father’s arms? There we can rest without our burdens until we’re strong enough to complete our journey. There, we’re always at home.” -from “A Restful Place”
In the light of the woman’s modest home, I gasped as I looked at June. Small drops of blood were trickling down her face and hands from some minor cuts. But as she shook her turquoise taffeta dress, a hundred minuscule fragments of glass sprinkled to the floor. In the backs seat, the window had shattered and sprayed glass in June’s hair, her dress, and even her slip. – from “A Protected Place”
When I caught up with Jesus, He was staring at the wall. “Natural colors work best,” He offered mysteriously.
I scratched my head in confusion. But the walls are painted in neutral colors—except those with wallpaper. “See?” I said smugly, pointing to each wall. “Light—and bright!”
Wait a minute. Did He say neutral or natural? One look at Jesus and I had my answer. – from “A Contented Place.”
About that time a young man on a motorcycle zoomed past me from the other direction—and skidded right into that empty parking space—my spot! I’m still not sure what got into me (neither did my mom or daughter), because I’ve never done anything like it before or since. – from ”A Forgiving Place”
“’Of course you can still hear the music. You still have YOUR husband. You still have YOUR kids. Oh, I still hear the music, all right. But the melody sounds more like a funeral dirge for me.”
“You’re right, of course. Except for one thing. The secret.” – from “A Happy Place”
©2001 by Rebecca Barlow Jordan, All Rights Reserved
