I’ve often wondered about the saying ‘You can’t go home again.’ Where did such an idea come from? Does it have to do with our high expectations about returning to something that will not be the same as we had ‘remembered’ it? Is it about a hoped-for dream which can never be fulfilled, can never be as special as what we wanted it to be? Does it mean in our fast moving society that we, our friends, or family members have grown away from each other and can no longer communicate with each other? Will we only be disappointed and frustrated if we try to go back home once more?

In 1940 Tom Wolfe wrote his famous novel with that well-known title. The words ‘You Can’t Go Home Again’ come at the end of the novel when the protagonist George Webber says, ‘You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood … back home to a young man’s dreams of glory and of fame … back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time – back home to the escapes of Time and Memory.’ In other words, you can’t go home again!

When I asked people what those words meant to them, they gave some interesting answers:
* If you leave your provincial life for something more sophisticated, you can’t return to the narrow boundaries of your previous life.
* If you try to relive youthful memories, you will always fail.
* You can’t return to your place of origin without being deemed a failure.

These thoughts were in my mind as I drove to Richmond, VA last week. I was returning to a place that I had called ‘home’ for a number of years. It had been my home when I lived and worked there, where I had faced some difficult challenges after being diagnosed with a brain tumor. It was a place where my colleagues at Christian Children’s Fund (now Child Fund) and my fellow members at Second Presbyterian Church had gathered around me, supported me, and cared for me when I was afraid, worried, and uncertain if I would live.

As I arrived in Richmond for a weekend of reminiscing and memories, it felt as familiar and comfortable as slipping into an old soft shoe. As the days passed with walks, laughter and tears, lunches and dinners with old friends, I could only feel a sense of relief and joy that I had ‘gone home’ again. I ended the weekend with one of my friends visiting the Blue Ridge Mountains, a place I had always treasured. Rather than feeling a sense of disappointment or frustration, I felt a deeper appreciation of that special place I had once called home – something I might not have felt before I left the area and realized how much I missed it. How grateful I am to have had the opportunity to return home again.

Dearest Creator, Thank you for being our home. Help us remember we can come home to you over and over again and never be disappointed. Whenever we return to you, we know that we will feel a deep sense of joy and peace. May we know that you love us and have a great desire for us to return home to you. Amen.

Joy Carol

www.joycarol.com