Jonathan, Jennifer, and Amanda arrived home before Ron and I did. After Pepper vocally expressed his delight at their arrival, he searched the house for me. When we finally got home about thirty minutes later, he cried and raced between all of us, hardly able to contain his excitement. Then he followed me everywhere, not willing to let me be out of his sight for the next couple of days.
As Jonathan said during his message at the Feast, staying there is not an option; it’s not sustainable. We have responsibilities and tasks waiting for us at home - all part of God’s plan for our lives. Nevertheless, we hate to see the end of the Feast. We feel the sadness that it’s over. We miss the tangible presence of Lord in our midst. Still, we go home, and our minds begin sorting through the to-do lists as we make plans to pick up our routines again.
Except . . . we’ll never be exactly the same. We aren’t picking up our routines exactly as we left them. We’ve rejoiced with our spiritual family; we’ve heard exhortations and encouragements.
And hopefully, we’ve internalized them - at least a nugget or two, or maybe a plethora of ideas and concepts. Prayerfully, we’ve tasted the glory of the Lord, and we’ve come to realize that we can take it with us! We don’t have to leave it at the Feast!
Oh, and God gives us one more gift, post-Feast: He gives us people in our lives who are very happy to see us; they truly missed us! We matter. We make a difference. God has placed us in this world to make a difference - for His glory and honor! And it’s nice to have the validation that it is so. But maybe, just maybe, initially at least, we’re not quite ready to get back into our lives. So God blesses us with pets who are unreservedly overjoyed that we’re home. It’s a gift. It’s a gentle way to remind us of the importance of our lives to others. And besides, stroking a purring cat is a pretty nice way to combat the post-Feast blues and to reacclimate to life at home.
🐶🐱 🐶🐱 🐶🐱 🐶🐱