Ah vacation! The smell of the seashore, the sound of seagulls. The look and feel of some place new. The trees, the roads, the people. Who can forget eating out? I love Maine. Our family has so many fond memories of that Eastern shoreline state. The lobster rolls, the lighthouses, art galleries and pottery shops. The quaint villages and less populated towns with a simple post office, police department and fire station all on one corner. We usually visit Maine in August. By then the ocean is at least a balmy 60 degrees. The smell of pine invigorates the senses. Life certainly abounds in this summer vacationland.
One time as we arrived home, I recall writing in my journal the pleasant feeling I had to step into my humble inland dwelling place. Despite the pressures of taking care of a home and children, this was peaceful. Don’t get me wrong, our week of savoring lobster rolls, visiting lighthouses and perusing art tickled our fancy. Even stopping in those tacky gift shops with the “original salt water taffy.” All of that brought great happiness and joy, but I was really home now.
The truth is, our lives today are like the vacation in Maine or anywhere else you like to travel. There is excitement and joy; there is even disappointment with a poor meal or lousy lodging. Believe me the gloom is thick on kindred spirits when it rains in Maine! Heaven is the home that we return to. We are simply travelers on a journey of life. Our mind and hearts will not feel true peace until we’ve returned home. St. Augustine states it much better than I, “…our heart is restless until it rests in you.”
