As our world turns

THE SLOW TURNING HOME

There comes a time

when your heart grows still enough

to hear its own footsteps.

A time when the long shadows

of struggle and sorrow

stretch across your path,

and you finally see

how far you’ve wandered

from the place you meant to be.

Not all at once ...

never all at once ...

but slowly,

through bruised hopes,

through quiet disappointments,

through the small calamities

that shake loose the truth.

And there,

in the middle of your life,

you pause.

You feel the ache

of your own distance.

You whisper a prayer

you barely remember knowing.

You tilt your soul

a fraction toward the light.

And that is when

the turning begins.

You thread your way back ...

carefully,

softly,

as though walking through a forest

after a storm,

stepping around fallen branches,

searching for the thin path

your spirit used to recognize.

With each step,

a sadness rises ...

a wondering sorrow:

Why did I ever walk away?

How long has Love

been waiting for me

to notice the emptiness

inside my own wandering?

But when you turn,

even slightly,

you find the truth

you feared to face:

The One you left

never left you.

No reprimand meets you,

no coldness,

no folded arms of disappointment ...

only the warm stillness

of Someone who has been watching

from the threshold

all this time.

His gaze says,

I knew you would come.

His silence carries welcome.

His presence gathers you

like a long-lost child

finally stepping into the doorway.

And you realize ...

with a trembling relief ...

that every hurt,

every stumble,

every night you felt alone

was seen.

Held.

Witnessed.

Carried.

The distance was yours;

the devotion was His.

And now,

as you stand in the soft light

of your returning,

you hear the quiet truth

that dissolves all fear:

“I am never far from you.”

In that whisper,

your soul exhales.

The road behind you loosens its grip.

The way ahead

brightens like dawn.