It seems I found my way through this world with less confusion after I went blind. I didn't always know where I was but I always knew where I wanted to go and where I'd find 'home' if I became lost in my travels. An interesting sense of solid home structure and base filled my life when I knew with whom I belonged.
When I was a little girl my family and my home gave me that anchor for which to hold. After I married, my husband and my kids were a large part of it. When I was in my twenties, we moved 6 times within two years. The transitions were difficult, but my base was always solid with Erik and the boys. Another piece of that solitude comes from my faith. Probably even more so than the people, my love and devotion to The Savior is my solid base in the midst of storms. I've lived in hospitals, for nearly three months when I was pregnant with my first baby. For another month when I had a pancreas transplant and for 11 weeks when my youngest was born. My husband and my kids kept me sane, but my prayers, songs and quiet conversations with My Savior kept me from sinking into the darkness.
The world is filled with things that always change: Political leaders, information on the web, truth about who and what God is. It makes it difficult to find where you belong.
With a recent uproar in my life, my health and my concept of home, I've had to really think about the details of where my place in 'the plan' consists. Where do I call home?
The answer comes to me in the same sure quiet way it always has. I'm home with my Savior...Always.
When the world, and the culture randomly changes, this one thing doesn't. I'm home and safe as long as I stay in the arms of my Creator, Redeemer and Savior.