Nativity Catholic Church
|
|
Running Away From Home I have a 2006 Desk Calendar that brings a smile to my face each day because every calendar date contains a classic cartoon from the “Peanuts” comic strip. Some days, these simple little boxes are enough to warm my spirit for the entire day. And sometimes, when the warmth dies out early because of the day’s challenging events or encounters, I return to the Peanuts gang to blow on the cooling embers. Over the past several days, the comics have been following Charlie Brown’s sister Sally as she makes her plans to run away from home. Sally eventually prepares her classic polka-dotted sack tied on the end of a stick and heads off. Her venture, however, is short-lived, as the very next day, my morning comic greeting shows Sally back at home. Her brother, Charlie Brown nonchalantly says, “I see you decided not to leave home.” Sally, in her own inimitable way, dejectedly concludes: “I had to…I walked all the way around the block. My life didn’t get any better, so I came home!” Parents love to circulate stories about the youthful exploits of their children far beyond the time and place and audience when these stories should have been sealed in a vault, never to be uttered again. Perhaps for them it’s merely quaint reminiscing, wandering back to the less complicated days of life, finding something to smile about in a less than humorous world. For those of us children, hearing weird tales from our childhood proclaimed to a tabloid-hungry audience—it’s simply one thing: EMBARRASSING! There’s a familiar tale about running away from home, the truth of which I presume, that pops up every so often (just in time to be embarrassing, of course) in my family. It seems at some tender young age, my brother Brian, in the midst of some sort of “huff,” decided to run away from home. I believe the story goes that my parents and I were seated at the dinner table when the announcement came, and without batting an eyelash or giving the slightest suggestion of being disturbed by my brother’s impending departure, we all bid him goodbye, and suggested he close the door on the way out! In a trip that probably lasting about as long as Charlie Brown’s sister Sally’s venture, my brother returned to the house—and with big crocodile tears streaming down his face, had to answer the inevitable question— “what happened? Your running away didn’t last long!” To which my brother Brian responded, “I couldn’t go very far; I’m not allowed to cross the street!” Fortunately, it appeared, his adherence to house rules, in spite of wanting a new family that day, trumped any running away from home! And I suppose, like Sally, he concluded, “Life didn’t get any better.” I suspect that a fairly standard childhood experience is threatening to run away from home, and I suppose that some actually followed through, or at least attempted to do so. And I suspect, that the desire and urge for “running away” isn’t limited to our childhood fantasies about a better life, usually born out of some momentary fit of anger. When pressures build up within and around us, and we can neither muster the imaginative energy to envision a different set of circumstances, nor begin putting some refreshing alternatives in place, the running away option seems very appealing. Often, like my brother or Sally Brown, we may have no idea where we actually want to run away to, or how we intend to survive once we have arrived at our mystery destination. At the moment of crisis or despair, we only believe that “somewhere else” has got to be better than where we are now! We imagine that running away in itself will somehow make life better. There are times when this running away actually does occur…and in some very desperate situations, when all the alternatives have been exhausted, or there is real personal danger and harm in need of escaping, running away is the only answer—with or without a specific plan. But for most of us, running away remains a fantasy we carry on in the privacy of our own minds and hearts. There are times, however, when we may not physically pack our bags and head off, but we seem to do so emotionally, spiritually, and psychologically. We distance ourselves from others around us—our spouses, children, families, co-workers, friends, companions, and church. Because of pressures we care not to face head on, or at least we don’t seem to have the fortitude to deal with at present, we wrap up our belongings, our true feelings, desires, anxieties, and concerns, in our own little polka-dotted sacks, tie them on the end of a stick, and drift away. Sometimes, we may not wander very far—something brings us back—or we simply discover, like Sally, that our life didn’t get any better, so we came home. As people of faith, no matter where our wanderings may take us, no matter whether we fantasize about running away or actually pack the bags and go, our God wanders with us—and desires for us to be “at home.” A quick perusal of the sacred scriptures testifies to the faithfulness of God, who always seems to be sidled up next to God’s people in their running away—from the desert sands beyond Egypt to the lonely, despondent road to Emmaus. Sometimes, the lure of running away is powerful, and seems to be the answer to our troubles—and perhaps, a change of scenery may be in order to open up a new and better life. And sometimes, just the fantasy is enough to help us take stock of where we are now, what we now call “home,” and how we might live more fully in our present surroundings. But no matter the case, we can be confident in a God whose love for God’s children is so deep and enduring that God walks with us in our wanderings, and surely welcomes us home—in all times and places—wherever “home” may be.
|
