Seeing What’s Familiar

Seeing What’s Familiar

Your first night in a hotel room is exciting. The nice big bed, the large TV, the tiny bottles of shampoo. But the second night, it feels more stale, almost empty. It has no life. Usually it’s because, other than your personal items, it has nothing that’s familiar.

Soldiers cope mentally and emotionally by carrying something familiar with them. Photos of loved ones, the latest letter from home. When we’re far away from what we know, we need to hold on to familiar anchors.

But even if you return home every day and see your loved ones, it’s easy to get so stressed out by the rat race that you ignore the very touchstones that can bring you back to your senses.

No matter where you are or what you are dealing with, never lose sight of what’s familiar. It will sustain you and fill your tank when you’re feeling adrift from what matters.

I thank my God every time I remember you. . . . It is right for me to feel this way about all of you, since I have you in my heart.
—Philippians 1:3, 7