Home

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As a parent, sometimes I feel like much of my time is spent correcting my kids. I know it exasperates them. It’s not much fun for me either. But I’m trying to raise them to be responsible and respectable. Not because I want them to be successful. I mean, of course I want them to be successful, but more importantly, I want them to be responsible and respectable because those qualities are important to me. I often feel I’m fighting an uphill battle in a society that seems to teach that everything is always someone else’s fault and you are entitled to just about anything for no other reason than the fact that you want it. So I correct them, I take away privileges and I wonder if any of it ever sinks in. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a drill sergeant or anything. I just feel like one at times.
But recently, after one of my kids experienced a difficult and bitter disappointment, I was reminded that one of the most important jobs as a parent is to be here for my kids; to make sure they know that no matter how big and bad this old world is, there is a place where there is acceptance and love. This place called home.
“Home is the one place in all this world where hearts are sure of each other. It is the place of confidence. It is the place where we tear off that mask of guarded and suspicious coldness which the world forces us to wear in self-defense, and where we pour out the unreserved communications of full and confiding hearts. It is the spot where expressions of tenderness gush out without any sensation of awkwardness and without any dread of ridicule.” ~Frederick W. Robertson
I’m staring out into the night, trying to hide the pain
I’m going to the place where love
And feeling good don’t ever cost a thing
And the pain you feel’s a different kind of pain
Well, I’m going home, back to the place where I belong
And where your love has always been enough for me
I’m not running from, no, I think you got me all wrong
I don’t regret this life I chose for me
But these places and these faces are getting old
So I’m going home, well I’m going home
The miles are getting longer, it seems, the closer I get to you
I’ve not always been the best man or friend for you
But your love remains true and I don’t know why
You always seem to give me another try
So I’m going home, back to the place where I belong
And where your love has always been enough for me
I’m not running from, no, I think you got me all wrong
I don’t regret this life I chose for me
But these places and these faces are getting old
Be careful what you wish for ’cause you just might get it all
You just might get it all and then some you don’t want
Be careful what you wish for ’cause you just might get it all
You just might get it all, yeah
Oh, well I’m going home, back to the place where I belong
And where your love has always been enough for me
I’m not running from, no, I think you got me all wrong
I don’t regret this life I chose for me
But these places and these faces are getting old
I said these places and these faces are getting old
So I’m going home, I’m going home
This post is part of the One Word at a Time Blog Carnival: Home, hosted by my friend Peter Pollock. To read more on this topic, please visit him at PeterPollock.com
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