Home is a sensation more than it is a physical place. I was moved a few times in my short life from area to area but the ranch lands always stuck like a sore thumb in the backgrounds. I grew up in the sunflower fields and corn stalks. I played in the plowed soil. Land was plenty and houses were still far away from our ranch.
I went to the place I last thought of as my childhood home and found it achingly empty. So I stood in the plowed fields and wept. Home was gone. The places I thought of as a home base for my wild spirit had evaporated like a puddle in the scorching sun. Just when I broke and needed it the most, needed the weathered window panes and comforting yelps of the dogs… it was FOR SALE BY OWNER.
I cried for who knows how long. Time in the fields is ruled by the path of the sunlight and my eyes were too watery to watch it glazing by in the sky. Home is a sensation, a piece of your heart that continually changes to set the pace of your life. Where was home for me now…? My childhood was up for sale yet again and vacant. It’s familiar sounds were all muted and strange.
I walked along the dirt road as far as my feet would take me. The fields were bare due to the heat and lack of service by experienced farm hands since COVID19 had swept the nation. The smell was stale soil and thickly humid air. Where was my home? Where would I come and share moments of comfort and familiarity now? I didn’t realize how much I’d missed my living room couch and my oddly painted walls. Where was home now?
I knelt in the dirt and I prayed my heart to Yahuah to help me find my answers. I felt like a little lost balloon, bopping and weaving between the clouds… ready to descend and die any moment the wind changed.
For the last year my heart has been with Yah, learning and rediscovering new and strange parts of myself that I’d forgotten or neglected. I’d obeyed His laws and observed His feasts. The answer was incredibly simple: My home was Yahuah. My familiarity was Yahusha. No longer would I be tied down to a physical location of my biological birth… no, the cords had been severed and my body free-fell aimlessly headlong into cancerous care and sickened injections. But the death of my family home meant the birth of my REAL Parent’s home. my Father’s Wakened World that lay ahead in the plowed fields just out of finger’s reach.
This ranchland had always been my skin and my flesh. The live stock were always my blood and my routine was my muscle… the morning ambling from shed to shed to let them all out to pasture, milk, feed, wash, dry, repeat. From the time I was a child, I was un chica de granja, My family worked the orchards and I picked the oranges and cotton buds right alongside them. I was taught how to filet fishes, tame and break horses, ride bareback and saddled, butcher and skin the various livestock… I learned it all. These were my vital organs for so long.
But now, my organs were pitted with alien speckles and growths. My hometown was no longer mine… and it felt freeing. I was free from the sexism, the racism, the pain and violence it all bore upon me. Though… it would never erase the memories and scars my hometown had left decades earlier…. it was a new start to continue to seek Yahuah’s love. He removed the familiar to make room for the Fresh, the Wakening, all that He provided.
The world is violent and it is terrifying. I’ve lived through disgusting acts besotted upon my being and my bones. But Yahuah is here to take that all away from me and to gift me with the World should I earn my place in it.
Obey His commands, Seek His heart, Love Him entirely with your soul and your being. Love Him always above anything and anyone else.
That’s what I’d learned this past year and I’d done my absolute best to stay with it. The world’s violences threaten me constantly with new tumors and news that breaks my spirit down over and over again… but I try to get back up as often and quick as I can.
But the time is coming and I know it deep inside of my core. The time is coming to go Home. I don’t want to look at it in the face because it’s a terrifying ordeal to transition through…. but it’s there. The clock is ticking faster and faster and it’s replaced the beat of my heart. The time is coming to go Home. I knelt in the soil and felt it slip past my fingers as I fumbled with the uneven terrain. I let it all go. He wanted me Home soon. And I’d give myself over to His will because that was the right thing to do.
Home is a sensation, a comfort that we seek in times of crisis. Mine was no longer of this earth, of this violent reality, but something and someOne greater than anything this reality could ever provide. Home was Yahuah. Home IS Yahuah. And I wish that so many people could see that, maybe then they’d learn to love one another and fear His Name. How much I’d wanted to share what I’d learned about His love… but no one listened. The nurses did, kindly, let me rattle on and on. One even read the Scriptures to me while I rested my head during an infusion. But the world wasn’t ready for His heart yet.
Home is where your heart is. My heart is with Yah… I felt the wind press through the bald patches in my hair. Home was not cancer, nor the treatment center, nor the hospital that I’d come to know so well. My abdomen ached. I had been here before, years back, and I wondered how far the progression of my cancer had been when I’d last been sitting on this field. I stared at the flat earth that encircled me with distant trucks and plows and tractors lazily bustling by. And it all felt too alien.
No…. no longer was this my home. This town that had raped and pillaged my innocence. This violent and terrible bubble of a world that had condoned my beatings and my submission to a man unkind and unruly. Though I loved these fields and these ranch lands, it no longer felt like my heart’s sensation of home. It felt so freeing to stand in that soil and take one last look around. I wiped the earth from my knees and I thanked Yahuah for His words in my spirit.
No longer would I ever venture back here. It was no longer of any importance to me… no longer of any use. It was no longer my home.