A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find that after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.
The picture below is of my oldest brother on the left, my mother in the middle, and my father on the right. They are onboard the SS America crossing the Atlantic Ocean in 1955. Notice how my brother's expression is hopeful. He is twenty-one and hoping for a new life in America. My mother's face shows concern. She is the maintainer. She takes care of the day to day struggles. Then notice my father's gaze. His pose is classic. He is looking at the horizon. Our family owes it's fortune to his long range view. This is his epic journey. A family of five, leaving war torn Germany for a new country.
My father prepared. We did not come penniless. He had money from selling a house and business. He also brought a resilient spirit. By surviving as a soldier on the Russian front he came home with grit and resolve. He would provide a better future for his sons and daughter. The journey across the ocean divides his life between his homeland and the new land. We are immigrants.
I feel my life on earth is like the journey across the ocean. I left my Heavenly Father and came to earth prepared. I have his divine DNA inside of me and though my memory of my homeland is gone, I have access to him through prayer and journals of those who came before, to guide me. I am going back to Him. Mortality is no longer than the four days across the ocean when compared to my existence before and eternity to come. What I can learn from those three faces in the picture is to have hope like my brother, maintain a mindfulness about now, like my mother, and always see the horizon, like my father. This journey through life is not one I am taking, it is taking me,
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