On the Road... Again

Isn't it nice to know, that no matter where you are, you are home? I feel that way a lot due to the great deal of traveling I have to do. I don't get to go anywhere exotic... just places that everyone has heard of and in some cases no one wants to go.
But when I have to go somewhere, I always find that the people who are there make or break the trip. When I used to have to go to Cleveland for example, my co-worker was a great host, taking me out to cool places and generally being a good guy to hang out with. In Detroit, I have my two best friends who shack me up and feed me on a regular basis.
After awhile of being in Detroit pretty constantly, I got an apartment, because after all, my friends needed their own space and time. But I soon realized while the apartment offered me solitude, it did not bring me peace.
Being that my job and I don't usually see eye to eye on what's best, being alone in the apartment tended to make me tired and depressed with no outlet of social interaction to pull me out of a funk. Now my travels are less frequent, someone else uses the apartment, I am back to the shacking up with my friends and I couldn't be more pleased.
These revelations seem more elementary than anything else... I mean, who wouldn't want to go where there were people and friends, versus a strange place?
I have learned at a glacially slow pace that faith works the same way. It is always right there to reach out and grab if you only want it. The hand of comfort and the hand of deliverance outstretched within easy reach. It never pulls away out of spite, even after you do. It will not be forsaken, though you may try to forsake it. The patient hand of a patient father who knows you better than you do and loves you anyway awaits.
You can go to the mountains, you can go to the bottom of a bottle, you can turn up the music really loud, you can look for love in false idols and collect all the money and fame you can and still, the hand is there.
I have swam a stormy sea all my adult life by my own choosing and it wasn't until I was exhausted and ready to stop swimming that I realized that was the best thing for me to do. When I wasn't so busy struggling, I saw that hand and took that hand. the water may stay rough, there may be clouds on the horizon, but I no longer wonder how I am going to get through it. There is only comfort.
Just like being on the road again. It was when work was done last night, sitting in the living room with my friends, realizing the stress of the trip and the day had melted and gone. Basking in the comfort and fellowship they were offering. It was free. It was without obligation. I was invited back.
Pretty cool, huh?