Not My Home

We are strangers, travelers, foreigners, visitors. This is not our home.

In my mind is peace. In the minds around me is havoc and chaos, war and hate, anger and rage. Here I am like sweet, red lickerish packed with bitter, black lickerish. Like a tall, red rose in a meadow of weeds. Like Pixar in Disney.

My inner being is not like that of those around me. Why, you may ask? How can I live so peacefully? How could my little world whirl around tranquility? Good question. But that's the beauty of it. I don't worry about the atmosphere though it screams for my attention. The news reports another shooting, another earthquake, another missing person. But it seems to me that the news only glorifies the bad things. People say, "Oh, what a world we live in." But they only know the world of television.

I look around and I see the good before I see the bad. My heart filters hate rather than let it resonate. The secret to peace is simple—Don't let the world get to you. After all, this is not my home. I'm only passing through.

We are here for only a moment, visitors and strangers in the the land as our ancestors were before us. - 1 Chronicles 29:15