I spent Valentines Day morning curled up in bed with my husband watching CMT. I am not as big a fan of country music as I used to be but I still get into it occasionally. My husband loves it. He eats sleeps and breaths country (and Nascar). But I am getting off topic.
This morning I heard Temporary Home by Carrie Underwood. It is a great song about a foster child, a single mother, and a man that is dying. The song really got to me.
I have done quite a bit of moving in my life, and passed through temporary homes. In fact, I am in one right now. I know that cramming my family of 5 into a small 2 bedroom apartment with no outdoor space is not permanent. It is not where we belong. I have lived in places where I felt I belonged, but could not afford to stay there. But I know that my goal is to get back there. I have lived in rentals all of my life and I try to think about how I would want a tenant to treat a home if I were the owner and had so much invested in it.
Then I think about the end of the song. When the man is dying and he speaks of the earth as our temporary home. We are just visitors here. This is the place where we have to stay right now, but it is not our permanent home. We are guests in this place. So often we forget that and treat the earth as if it belongs to us. As if it is our right to take and use as much of the earths resources as we can. We neglect it and mistreat it as if it were something that belonged to us. But how can it belong to us if we are only here for such a short stay.
Imagine if you had spent millenniums building and perfecting a home. Adding touches and adjustments here and there to make the home more perfect, and then tenants moved in and pulled up the floor boards, punched holes in the walls, and painted graffiti on the walls.
Just something to think about. Blessed Be
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