(Image borrowed from http://radrevolution.com/do-you-love-me
a good website for girls btw)
My mom has a box of shtuff for each of us kids with all kinds of randomness, some awww-inducing trinkets and drawings and report cards and awards. Some make my head hurt; some just are down right wrong.
One of the major trends throughout my younger days was the plethora of handwritten notes asking the all too important question of “Do you love me?” followed by a clearly demarked box to check yes or no. The very idea, however faint of a glimmer of an idea, in a child’s mind that there is that outside chance someone might actually check no is enough to make said child do these notes frequently and near maniacally throughout the early years.
It became a bit of a joke as I got older and would simply put a box with the word yes in birthday cards and other notes I’d give to my parents. For me, it was always a given and there was a security in that which I can honestly say did not waiver, even when through dark days, I knew they were less than pleased with me.
Knowing you are loved – knowing you have a home base – knowing without a shadow of a doubt that there will always be someone who wants you around, longs for your wholeness, hopes for your peace, and prays for your soul – this is a place that I wish for every one. But I know it is not a place many people find themselves. They have only known a vague sense of security, a shallow sense of love, and an ever distant sense of hope. People who profess to care let them down or simply give up on them. Others provide a very hesitant help, with lots of strings attached, and a generally wavering favor dependent on a multitude of spoken and implied conditions. Parents wash their hands of their children, adult children fail their aging parents, spouses give up on each other, and employers replace loyalties with a bottom line.
In a word, it’s a mess. So we look inside and we hope that we’ll have the inner strength to pull ourselves together and to make the best of what’s around. And our inner reserves wax and wane like the moon and its pull on the tides. The question is where do you go to fill the reserves? Where is your well? Where do you set up your home base? How’s that working out for you? (being clever?)
My faith has found a resting place. This is my home base. This is where I set up base camp and all my adventures bring me back right here. Like a yes box checked for all eternity.
Enough for me that Jesus saves,
This ends my fear and doubt;
A sinful soul I come to Him,
He’ll never cast me out.
– Eliza E. Hewitt, aka Lidie H. Edmunds