A Little Piece of Home
Most of the boxes are unpacked. While I still refer to it more often as "our new house" rather than "home", bit by bit, familiar item after familiar item, this long-awaited, long-prayed for, long-sought-after house is becoming ours.
For the first time in eight months, we are surrounded by what is ours; things that are just that, things. But they are things with memories attached to them; things that bring a sense of familiarity in this entirely new surrounding. There is comfort in familiarity - like my little cactus named Jeffery who is perched by the kitchen window just as he was at home in Beulah or the over-sized blue chair where the Lord and I continue to meet over a cup of coffee each morning. There is nothing overtly special about any of these things other than that they are ours, a piece of our family history. Seeing them again, snuggling into them again, playing with them again, cooking with them again - all help bridge the past memories to the current ones.
I've wrestled often this past year over what exactly makes a place - be it a building or particular landscape - home and where the line between liking our stuff crosses into idolatry. I haven't come up with good answers for either one of them, but I have learned this about home:
And I realized that just as I felt displaced at my in-laws, I should feel displaced here on earth. I realized that I should desire the same to be said of me that was said of those saints long ago:
But while we await the return of our Savior and the ultimate contentment we'll experience in His presence in heaven, come visit us. We love visitors! And if you don't mind a few trees, the Upper Peninsula really is a beautiful place. Our new house has plenty of room for you too stay, I love to cook, Jordan still has great puns and our kids are getting cuter every day (Really, what more is there?).
For the first time in eight months, we are surrounded by what is ours; things that are just that, things. But they are things with memories attached to them; things that bring a sense of familiarity in this entirely new surrounding. There is comfort in familiarity - like my little cactus named Jeffery who is perched by the kitchen window just as he was at home in Beulah or the over-sized blue chair where the Lord and I continue to meet over a cup of coffee each morning. There is nothing overtly special about any of these things other than that they are ours, a piece of our family history. Seeing them again, snuggling into them again, playing with them again, cooking with them again - all help bridge the past memories to the current ones.
I've wrestled often this past year over what exactly makes a place - be it a building or particular landscape - home and where the line between liking our stuff crosses into idolatry. I haven't come up with good answers for either one of them, but I have learned this about home:
This longing that I have felt, the desire to be home, the desire to have a home is good. But my longing and desire for home should not be for any place here on earth. My longing and desire should be for my true home. For heaven. For eternity in the presence of my Savior.While we lived with my in-laws, they were fantastic. (And actually, they still are.) They made every effort to make us feel "at home" during our eight-month free-loading stint. But their house was never quite home. The longing for a home of our own was strong, the difficulty of mourning our move intensified by not having a place to dig deep new roots. During that time, I so badly wanted a home of our own. I prayed, cried and asked, "How long, O Lord? Will You forget me forever?"
And I realized that just as I felt displaced at my in-laws, I should feel displaced here on earth. I realized that I should desire the same to be said of me that was said of those saints long ago:
"All these died in faith, without receiving the promises, but having seen them and having welcomed them from a distance, and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a country of their own. And indeed if they had been thinking of that country from which they went out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He has prepared a city for them." (Hebrews 11:13-16, emphasis mine)As my kids and I have been singing along with the Slugs and Bugs crew, "I've got a home in heaven and my Lord will be there too. He made our home in heaven. He is making all things new. He is making all things new."
But while we await the return of our Savior and the ultimate contentment we'll experience in His presence in heaven, come visit us. We love visitors! And if you don't mind a few trees, the Upper Peninsula really is a beautiful place. Our new house has plenty of room for you too stay, I love to cook, Jordan still has great puns and our kids are getting cuter every day (Really, what more is there?).
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