Time to go?
Genesis 27: 41-45
41 Esau held a grudge against Jacob because of the blessing his father had given him. He said to himself, ‘The days of mourning for my father are near; then I will kill my brother Jacob.’
42 When Rebekah was told what her elder son Esau had said, she sent for her younger son Jacob and said to him, ‘Your brother Esau is planning to avenge himself by killing you. 43 Now then, my son, do what I say: flee at once to my brother Laban in Harran. 44 Stay with him for a while until your brother’s fury subsides. 45 When your brother is no longer angry with you and forgets what you did to him, I’ll send word for you to come back from there. Why should I lose both of you in one day?’
For me, leaving home feels like something which should be done in the autumn, and I suppose I have left home in the autumn on several occasions - to go to university, to start travelling, to change jobs. Leaving home is different from moving house. When you move house everything and everyone in the household comes with you. When you leave ‘home’, you usually leave others behind.
Jacob had to leave home. He couldn’t stop pushing Esau - following up his stew trick with a hairy armed deception aimed at fooling his father and stealing his brother’s blessing. Rebecca hurries her favourite son away to allow Esau’s anger to die down. I expect Jacob didn’t have time to linger, but perhaps he had a moment to say the kind of goodbyes which make the heart ache.
Couldn’t the summer last a little longer, Lord?
The evenings are still so long.
The light lingers, can I not linger, also?
I just need a day or two - or maybe a week
to adjust
I’m not ready to grow up, to move on, to start afresh.
I thought I had more time.
I didn’t think it would happen so suddenly.
At least, it feels sudden.
I just need a moment to watch the light,
to hear one more familiar story,
to see myself reflected back in the faces of those I love.
I’ll be back. Of course I’ll be back.
Please Lord, tell me I will be back.
But I will have changed.
And they? They will have learned to live without me for a while.
There will be new seasons, but this one won’t come again.
I know I have to go. I’m willing to go.
I’m looking for the joy you promise,
I’m sure I will find it, somehow, somewhere.
But, couldn’t the summer last a little longer, Lord?
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