Here's the chorus:
I don't belong,
and I'm going someday-
home to my own native land.
I don't belong,
and it seems like I hear the sound of a welcome home band.
I don't belong I'm a foreigner here,
singing a sojourner's song.
I've always known this place ain't home and
I don't belong.
A cemetery is a place to remember this timeless truth: earth is not my home.
The last stanza:
To a kingdom of peace where only love is the law.
Where children believe and captives are free
and God becomes a baby on the straw.
Where dead men live and rich men give their kingdoms to buy back a song.
Where sinners like me become royalty
And we'll all belong.
The oak trees watched. Mosquitoes bit our legs. The spoon mom brought to dig with, served it's purpose. It felt odd digging for silk flowers though...we did need to make the ground able to hold them. I saw Mom's name, and Dad's. I tried to imagine seeing my beloved's name on a stone marker. I cannot. I have never claimed I could.
A bird sang, "Teeee---cher!" I got down on the ground and helped Mom get the flowers she picked out, just right.
It isn't so hard coming here anymore I thought..
I used to stand and bawl. And dread being there.
It's humbling to see your daddy's name on a grave.
It's more humbling to drive by where you spent all your growing up years. Memories soar; Dad and I planted red pine seedlings in that field, those trees in fact...Steve and I climbed all over the front yard apple trees, chucked their apples at cars (from behind the porch's walls) Sorry mom...
caught frogs by the scores in the pond...
it flew by so fast--even though I slowed mom's car down..
I want to remember tonight. I am first a Houck. Then by choice a Zowada.
I am thankful for my earthly home, for my daddy and my brother and my mom..
but heaven gives me hope.
only Jesus knows my heart now as i write..
thank You Lord for reminders that this terrestrial ball is not my home--
thank You for conquering death and the grave,