When Home Seems Strange

Our weekends are usually easy going affairs.  We do some housework and yard work.  My husband has some hobbies he enjoys–beekeeping and woodworking.  We especially enjoy cooking together on weekends.  My son and his financee usually show up for at least one meal and my youngest daughter is around at different times during the weekend as well.  So folks are in and out of the house.  My mother watches all of this from her blue leather recliner by the picture window.  She observes and makes her mental notes, comes to the table for meal times, reads her books and watches Rocky.

A few weekends ago on a Sunday night as it was nearing her bedtime, my daughter, husband and I were sitting with her and she asked me why we kept going to different houses over the weekend.  I told her we hadn’t been to any other house, that she was currently in our home which was now her home as well.  I told her it was her bedtime and she asked me to take her home so she could get ready for bed.

Instead of correcting her I told her I would take her home, helped her up and guided her to the bathroom.  After her evening toiletry I led her to her bedroom and helped her into her pajamas.  But there was no fooling Mom.  She “knew” I hadn’t taken her anywhere and wanted to know why we were in a stranger’s house.  I showed her all of her things in the room, her photos and furniture and tried to help her understand it was her room.  As I tucked her into bed she asked me if I would be sure to gather all her things when we went home the next day.  As we prayed together she thanked the Lord for all the people who let us use their houses over the weekend.

I wonder what it must be like for Mom to think she is in a strange place when she goes to bed at night.  God must repair her mind a little bit during those hours of sleep because she knows where she is when she wakes up in the morning. I cannot remember a morning when she hasn’t gotten up with a smile on her face and a quiet joy settled over her soul.  It reminds me of the verse from Psalm 30, Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning.  Thank you, Lord, for the joy.

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