It is out there.
Beyond the vast misty Sea.
Occasionally one can see the flash of its great light.

Many years ago a small vessel set sail from the land of the Great Lighthouse. Friends waved farewell and he was gone. As he sailed into the mists of the vast ocean, the pilot depended upon his trusty compass. He sailed on until the mists cleared and there was land. Soon he dropped anchor in a welcoming harbor where other vessels lay at anchor.

Friends – lots of them. They greeted one another warmly.

Before long they were sailing along the coastline for ever-so-far, learning of the rocky shoals, sandy beaches, safe harbors, and of course storms. There were many fish to be caught, beaches to be enjoyed, and winter gales to be weathered. And a few icebergs as well.

Memories of the Land of the Great Lighthouse faded and became legend. Many would tell tales of the Great Lighthouse, but such stories were often in conflict. Some even denied the Beautiful Land existed. The common thread of these stories was that there really was a Great Lighthouse.

Years pass. Boats arrive from the Land of the Lighthouse, ships and boats depart from the familiar shore with the Beautiful Land as destination.

The attraction of the Great Lighthouse becomes strong. Eventually you decide to cast off for the Beautiful Land and sail into the mists of the western sea. You wave farewell and are gone

You are gone.

In the Harbor of Home with its Great Lighthouse are friends who watch as you
materialize out of the mist. They watch and wait as you draw near

They waive and greet you joyfully.

Welcome Home, Good Friend.

Welcome Home.