Well, there have been some sightings. It’s not even spring and a couple of people have approached me recently saying those cryptic words.

“I think I saw them in my back yard.”

“Saw who?” I ask, even though I know.

“Your bunnies.” Then they proceed to describe them in great detail.

“Yep, it sounds like them,” I say in reply. “Flippy and Floppy.”

Flippy and Floppy are my resident bunnies who were born under my peony bush eight years ago this upcoming May. It’s hard to believe that they’ve lived in my yard for that long. Others question their longevity, but I know it’s still them. For one thing, the way they each run is unique. When Flippy runs he leans a little to the right. When Floppy runs, he leans a little to the left. Their tipsy gait makes it easy to identify which is which.

My extremely unscientific theory is that they are mirror twins. This explains why they do things oppositely, as if they’re looking into the mirror and seeing their reflection.

The fact that they have been outside their winter home recently is not surprising with the spring-like temperatures. I heard honking geese again this week and saw them flying overheard in a northerly direction. I think that one even waved at me, but that could be my imagination.

I also heard a woodpecker for the first time in a long time. I didn’t see him, but he just might be my pileated woodpecker returning after a two-year hiatus. He’s large, like Woody the Woodpecker. When he drills for insects he makes sounds like baseballs slamming against the tree. He’s never accused of being a delicate eater.

All that activity brings the bunnies out. Then they do what they do best. They travel to other yards. They have traveling in their bunny bones. It’s okay with me if they leave for a while because they always find their way back home. That’s an important trait for all species. To find our way home.

In life, sometimes we people forget how to go back home. Sometimes we forget where home is. Long after a physical home is gone, the feeling of home remains. The memories. The laughter. The serious times. The arguments. The reconciling. The forgiveness. The lessons learned. Fun ones. Hard ones. Ones that last a lifetime. The new days that shine like hope in a brand new morning light because we have known home. Even if we can no longer physically return home, we carry home in our hearts.

Some people don’t have many good memories of home but learn to create home with new people. With friends and co-workers. With their spouses, their children, their grandchildren. Others are still trying to find their way home. Like geese with no sense of direction, they fly around, never finding a place to land. But there is a place where we can all find our true home. It’s not a place, but a person.

In John 14, one of the disciples asks Jesus, “Lord, how is it that you will manifest yourself to us and not to the world?” (verse 22).

In John 14:23 Jesus replied, "Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and We will come to them and make Our home with them."

Jesus, always the patient teacher, is describing the relationship between the ones who love him, and also the Father and their relationship. This is before Pentecost, so the Holy Spirit does not yet dwell within them, but later Jesus promises to send his Comforter. He says it’s good that he’ll be leaving so that the Comforter can come.

Jesus is describing a new home with his followers. One that is not made of construction material with a street address and receives mail delivery. No, this home is more than that. In this home his family follows him. They live in obedience and love. They go and tell the world about Jesus. And as they do, they take their home with them.

We are called to do the same. To make our home with our Lord and then to go and share our home with others. Like Flippy and Floppy, we put on our traveling shoes, always knowing where we come from and where we will return.

Kathy Yoder is a devotional writer. She may be reached at kathyyoder4@gmail.com.


Load comments