X Marks the Way Home by Joylene M Bailey

My husband and I have been on a lot of cruises over the years. We found it to be the best vacation for him while he was leading a large company, because while we were in the middle of the ocean or visiting islands and faraway places, nobody could get hold of him except in a real emergency. And he was so far away from work that he actually relaxed.

If you've ever been on a cruise ship you know that your cabin becomes home for 7, 11, 15 days or more. No matter where you travel around the world, what shore excursions you take in the various destinations, you always return "home" to your very own cabin.

We began to favour a particular cruise line whose logo was an X. In fact, a giant X graced the sides of the biggest funnel on the ship, so even from far away--day or night--we could identify our ship. We came to appreciate this when we'd arrive in port along with several other ships.

From atop an island mountain, while perusing the shops on the waterfront, or sitting in a restaurant near the ocean, we could look toward the harbour where the ships were docked, spy the X and say, "Ah. There's home." It gave a thrill to know that we weren't lost out in the middle of nowhere with no direction.

The diverse cultures and foods we were experiencing were interesting and exciting in the moment, but Home was waiting for us with the familiarity and comforts we knew and enjoyed: our own cabin with its comfortable bed, welcoming desk at which to sit and write, deck chairs on the balcony where we could recline and watch land, sea, and sky sail by.

Sometimes, our trek back to the ship involved winding trails through lush foliage or narrow cobble-stoned alleys. We'd lose sight of the X that marked home. But every time it came into view, we were able to get our bearings and head in the right direction. 

It reminds me very much of a scripture verse that has become a kind of watchword for me over the ups and downs of my lifetime. When life got hard and I couldn't see the way forward, I'd count on these words from Isaiah 30:21 ...

"Your ears will hear a word behind you, saying, 'This is the way, walk in it,' whenever you turn to the right or to the left."

There have been many times when I've had to bring myself up short, remind myself to put my listening ears on. Life gets busy; all kinds of things crowd in to drown out the still small Voice. Once I tune in, however, I hear the word behind me saying, "This is the way, walk in it." How comforting to know that to tune my ears to that Voice, to search for the X, is to find home.

"This is the way ... to handle that situation ..."

"This is the way ... to forge into the unknown ..."

"This is the way ... to word that phrase ..."

In any and every step of life, X marks the way home.

*****

Celebrity cruise ship image by Ralph Hausler from pixabay.

This will be Joy's last regular blog post for IWO, as she'll be taking a break from it for a year or so. But she'll pop in now and then to read and enjoy yours. And you can find her at Scraps of Joy. From her cozy home in beautiful lake country, Alberta, where she lives with The Cowboy, she wishes you a Joyous Christmas and a blessed 2025.

HOME by Joylene M Bailey

 

 

~~~~~

Home is an important place to me. The word Home conjures up feelings of safety, sanctuary, comfort, and freedom. I suppose someone psychologically inclined might say those feelings stem from the home in which I grew up. They'd be right. As long as I can remember, my home has been my sanctuary.

When challenged to Go Big or Go Home, I'll pick home every time.

The Cowboy and I have now lived in our new home in the country for fifteen months. We built it prayerfully and purposefully: Built for us, with others in mind has been the motto since the beginning. We've seen over 200 people come through our door, and for every single one my prayer and desire has been that they would find welcome, comfort, sanctuary. That they would feel at home.

It's only recently that I've come to the realization that my writing seems to be built on that theme as well. My characters are finding their way home in one way or another. My blog welcomes readers to feel at home.

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. My writing reflects who 

I am.

A week ago, in the days following my godly mom-in-law's final home-going, I was intrigued to learn that she had never wanted to discover her spiritual gifts. Yet, everyone else knew what they were because they were so evident. They were part of who she was. And others were blessed by them.

In a small way, I connect that idea to my writing. Yes, there is a place for purposeful, goal-centred writing. But I believe my best work comes out of who God created me to be, and right now that seems to be someone who wants to bring her readers Home.

~~~~~

Feature photo by StockSnap from Pixabay.

Joy and The Cowboy love welcoming guests to their country home in northerly Alberta, where the coffee's always on (now that the new coffee maker has arrived) and there's always an extra chair for one more. Find more Joy-infused writing at Scraps of Joy. 

A Personal Love of Canada - Alan Anderson

For the first time since blogging here I almost forgot.

When I think of Canada I think of the wonder of home. I think of my adopted home. I think of the land of my birth

The wonder of Canada as home. Canada is an amazing country. It is huge in landmass. It is composed of people from all over the world who accept her welcoming heart. I love how most people at least, respect the wisdom in assimilating into Canada as a unique culture. I sincerely appreciate Canada is a country that for the most part believes in freedom of religion and speech.

I have travelled to a number of locales in Canada and I stand amazed at her beauty. Having spent most of my life in British Columbia I love the mountains. I love the protection of evergreen trees and the soaring of the eagles we see all year round. I love the sense of awareness that surrounds me when I go for a hike in the mountains and forests. It is the awareness that I am in the home of bears and cougars.

To me, British Columbia is one of Canada’s jewels.

Canada, my adopted home. Although I originally had no choice in coming to Canada I have chosen to live here and undoubtedly will die here. I will explain more about this in the next section of this post.

When I consider the turmoil all too common in certain parts of the world, at least Canada has a history of enjoying a democracy. I have the freedom here to more or less live the way I want without molestation from the government. I pray to God it will remain so.

The freedom of Canada has made it possible for my wife and I to raise our family in peace. This is primarily due to the strength, conviction and sacrifice of the members of our military personnel. Our children are proud of Canada!

Every Canada Day I think of the land of my birth. I was born in Scotland, the land of my soul. Scotland gave me to Canada. As a Scotsman, however, I know that Scotland never gives up her children. I will always be a laddie from Scotland!

I was ten years old when my parents brought my siblings and I to Canada in 1964. We left the land of our births because my parents believed it would present us with a better way of life. For the most part, this has been so.

A regret I have is we did not bring our dog with us. Her name was Lassie. It is something I have never forgotten. We left family and our beautiful Scotland yet I miss my dog even to this day. That may sound crazy to you. I was a boy and I loved Lassie. For the longest time I resented that my parents didn’t bring her with us. I also resented Canada and spent the better part of our first year homesick for Scotland.

As the years have gone by and I have matured I love Canada yet Scotland still runs through my veins. I have never been back.

Canada is home. It took me a long time to realize and accept that fact. I thank my parents for having the courage to uproot themselves for the sake of their children, including me.

Thank you Canada for being so good to me! Thank you Scotland for giving up some of your children to settle in such a wondrous and beautiful Canada!

May God bless us and keep us free!

Blog: ScarredJoy@wordpress.com

Home is Where it Began - by Tandy Balson

The store I work in sells a frame with the inscription Home is Where Your Story Begins.  This seemed perfect for this month’s blog prompt of who started it all for your creative spirit.

My story begins at home.  When I was growing up contact was made with people from out of town by written letters.  Long distance phone calls were too expensive and there were no computers to send email.  

I have a brother who is eight years older than me.  As I was entering my teens, he was at university in another city and sent letters home on a regular basis.  My mother looked forward to these letters and always commented that Rob had a way with words.  I remember reading them and wishing that I could express myself as well as he did.  He has since published a book of short stories and three novels.

In high school I excelled at writing essays.  I also wrote letters to pen pals.  Although I enjoyed writing, it never occurred to me that I could one day be a writer.

My mother became the provincial president of an international service organization and spent a year travelling the province and giving speeches.  She had always been a stay at home mom and I had no idea she had this kind of talent.  Her talks were inspiring and seemed far beyond anything I could ever do.  After all, in order to speak to groups she had to first spend time researching and writing her talks.

Any thoughts of ever doing this myself were quickly pushed to the back of my mind when I married young and soon had children to take care of.  Working, volunteering and taking care of my home and family left me with little time or energy to consider anything else.

When my children left home I realized that I didn’t know who I was or what I was capable of.  A series of events led me to search for and identify long lost dreams for my life.  The only thing I was certain of was that I needed to do something that would point people to Jesus.

When I slowed down enough to really pay attention I saw the signs that God had been placing in my life for many years.  He had been pointing things out to me and giving me the words to share his lessons.  A good friend encouraged me to start blogging these messages.  I didn’t have the confidence but she assured me that God would provide what I needed.

After speaking to my husband I was encouraged to start writing on a regular basis.  He has inspired, supported and prayed for me.  My creative spirit may have received its start from family in my childhood home but the writing was nurtured under the loving care of my husband in our home.  Both cases proved the saying true. Home was where my story began.

Organizing My Time by Bryan Norford

Organizing my time at home may be difficult enough, but try it on vacation.

Oh! Come on now, that’s when you have the time to spare, isn’t it?

Well, to be honest, my routine at home isn’t foolproof. Perhaps I can get it organized now.

But whatever routine I mismanaged at home, it’s torpedoed by the relaxing demands of this holiday time. Sleep late, lazy breakfast, and so on. O-oh, missed my devotional time. Besides Ann needs my attention now—she’s my responsibility under God isn’t she?

Anyhow, I have this book by Eugene Peterson I need to read. That’s devotional isn’t it? But the later the day, the more my excuses pile up. And that’s for a relaxing holiday. This one is travel; so much to see, so much to get in today.

Other people are depending on me; I’ve made commitments. Time is of the essence. Meeting at McDonald's for breakfast. Other friends expecting us at Oxford in a couple of hours and not sure of driving time to get there.

Be nice to get home into some regular routine again—however badly, at least it works some of the time.

Okay. You’re on vacation. Perhaps you need some time away from your routine.

Yes, good point, I’ll be better able to cope at home after a break won’t I?

However, you can still find time to do the things you want. You found time to write this blog, didn’t you?

Yes, of course. It’s the 17th. Can’t let Brenda down.

You mean Brenda’s your excuse for your poor devotional skills?

Well, when you put it like that, no. But I’m trying to honour my commitments. Okay, that’s another excuse to miss my commitment to Him. Perhaps my time would have been better spent with Him than trying to put this blather together.

Well. At least you’ve owned up to that one. What’s your next excuse . . . ?