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DR. ANGELO O. SUBIDA, PSYCHOTHERAPIST.
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I’m just a visitor in this place. A tourist. Cruising, on borrowed time. Then I travel back home.
This world is not my home. I’m just a tourist passing through, on borrowed time. Until ... I return to my true home.
From her book, “Counting on Kindness,” therapist and social worker Wendy Lustbader writes of a mother with a 17-year-old son dying of cancer.
The mother shared a conversation with her son, who was about to leave their “home:”
“When he awoke, I thought maybe the light was hurting his eyes. I started to lower the window blind.
‘No, no!’ He stopped me. ‘I want all the sky!’
He couldn’t move (too many tubes), but he looked at that bright blue square with such love. The snow had stopped and in its place we now had blazing, brilliant sunshine. ‘The sun,’ he said. ‘It was so good —‘
The February afternoon grew dark. He grew more tired. After a while, he whispered, ‘Do something for me? Leave a little early. Walk a few blocks and look at the sky. Walk in the world for me ... ‘ “
Regardless of age, everyone leaves this world.
We can only long for it and it’s beauty. But ultimately, sooner or later, we travel out of this world.
As the apostle Paul said,
“We, however, are citizens of heaven. And we eagerly wait for our Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, to come from heaven.” (Philippians 3:20)