Home Time

Home Time

A view from the Kemp house

There’s a lot to be said about what’s going on in our world at the moment. This post is only tangentially about the COVID-19 drama in which we all find ourselves entwined. This post is a brief nod to all those who are becoming reacquainted with the familiar. The pace has slowed for many of us and our circle has shrunk to the confines of our homes, local walks, and the grocery store. This week found me reacquainting with my 20 year old keyboard, trying to remember how to layer tracks and record the new song brewing in my head. This week found me reacquainting with the dirt in my backyard, already fighting the battle of the weeds. Randy and I hopped onto our dusty old road bikes this past week as we were reacquainted with the feel of thin tires on asphalt and the burn of a long climb. This week found me reacquainting with my home and the joy I find in every room, even when the messes start to take over. Lots of “oh yeah, I remember you” sorts of feelings. Underlying the minor tones of global pandemics have been these beautiful melodies of familiarity singing to me – strains of notes I had lost in the push of the everyday. These past few weeks have been a taste of slow-cooked life. It’s been an opportunity to be reminded of what is worth holding onto and a chance to pivot my focus towards what brings joy and peace. Convicted by my drive to do, I have had to be…still. I have had to wait with open hands. For me, this has been a time to repent. Repent, in my own words, means to turn away from something soul-sucking and turn toward abundance. So, in this time that has been forcefully given, I am turning away from the demand of urgency and towards the familiar voice of the Father who beckons me to become reacquainted with His “shalom.”


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