When we close our eyes and picture home, the elements are never far removed. Hot or cold, wet or dry, beach or mountain, fire or ice. It’s what we feel, what we dream, what we embody. Home is always a place, and who we are is grounded in that big or small plot of ground.
I grew up in the cold winters of Minnesota, and I used to feel at home amongst ice. Summer gardens gone under deep snow, and tree branches brittle and dripping with ornate, frozen glass. I looked forward to the days turning cold, the first snow of the season and the silence of winter days. The cold air that froze my cheeks felt familiar, and the white and black scenery that unfolded each November was a picture of beauty. Our family’s survival in this tundra was always a sense of Midwestern pride, and my nostalgia for this place grows with each passing year that I’m away.
But that doesn’t mean that wintry home didn’t also have its dangers. Though I still marvel at the way ice forms mosaic imprints across a lake, I’ll never forget the winter I fell through a broken sheet of ice and almost drowned, the cold waters rushing over me and paralyzing my legs in an instant. The freezing temperatures were a nightmare to the poor and the homeless, a shadow of death that lingered for more than nine months each year. And the threat of children going missing amid snow tunnels and wintry playscapes still haunts my old school yard. The north was my home, but it was far from perfect. The place I lived in is a part of who I am. It’s proudly weaved into many of my pleasures and secretly hidden within many of my pains.
The beauty and wonder of it all is that the God who made the world and everything in it ordained the boundaries of my home as well (Acts 17:26-27). God sovereignly orchestrated the earthly places I call home, while also giving me a longing desire for a greater, heavenly home.
Beloved, we were created for home. When God first made man and woman, His next creative act was to shelter them; the two were inextricably linked from the very beginning. Genesis 2:8-9 tells us, “Now the Lord God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; and there he put the man he had formed. The Lord God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground — trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food.”
This first home for humans was a lush paradise. It was a place where they belonged, where their connection to God was secure and their identity assured. They were nourished and cared for, and they knew peace. It was perfect in every way.
Then, because of sin, this Edenic home was lost, and our quest for home has continued ever since. Our depravity left a gaping hole in the heart of satisfaction, and our frailty brought enjoyment to its knees.
We don’t always feel God’s nearness inside the four walls of our home. We miss our mothers and our children — the people now gone, whose lives can never be replaced. There is often chaos and disorder and pain, instead of peace. There are dirty dishes and unfolded laundry, empty beds and empty cupboards and even emptier purses. Long gone are the spaces for solitude, quiet, and rest. There are times when we don’t even want to go home.
It’s been many years now since Minnesota was home. My feet have taken me from Chicago to Berlin and even to India. Recently, I moved in among the bramble, the cacti, and the rosemary bushes of the Southwest. I abandoned the snow for tufts of weeds, enveloped with sand, and the burning hot sun that scorches the skin and dries out river beds. This is a place that doesn’t yet fully feel like home, but I am learning to love it nonetheless.
Now, every time I still feel misplaced among the thistles and the thorns, every time I feel disconnected from the sandy ground upon which I walk, I’m reminded that my true home is still to come. Thanks be to God that the home He is preparing for us is not eternally lost!
One day, God will bring us home again, and it will be a home even better than the original garden of Adam and Eve. In this new home, we will once again belong. We will know peace, and death and pain will be no more. God promises that He will wipe away every tear from our eyes and that we will no longer have reason to cry (Revelation 21:4).
We were made for home, but our true and lasting home is not of this world. We will feel this lack keenly in the present, at some times greater than others. But may we not lose hope because true rest is coming, true peace is coming. Let us press on while it is still called day, for God will one day call us home.
We were made for home, but our true and lasting home is not of this world. -@dr_reyes2: Click To Tweet Leave a Comment
Michelle, you won’t believe this, but last night I dreamed that I was still living in Michigan (where I lived for seven years), and that my husband had been transferred to west Texas. I woke from the dream worried about whether I would be able to make a home for my family in such a different place. It was a weird dream, to say the least, but it tracks so closely with what you’ve said here!
When I was a little girl we used to sing a song that began “This world is not my home, I’m just a’passin’ through; my treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue. . .” Indeed, the longing for home lives inside each of us. Thank you for articulating the longing–and the hope–so well.
P.S. It was such a treat to meet you at the Redbud retreat! I look forward to getting to know you better.
Hi Richella! What a crazy dream! Are y’all from west Texas? It’s funny how different north and south, east and west are, and how part of who we are changes, depending on where we live. Thankfully, God’s mercy and grace covers every foot of ground we traverse! I love that song you mentioned. I’m going to to look that up. Grateful that these words on home resonated with you today. It was such a joy to chat with you last week, and I do hope it’s the first of many more chats to come!
We’re from Tennessee, not from Texas, so I have no idea why west Texas showed up in that dream. . . but reading your post right on the heels of having that dream certainly got me to thinking!
If you have access to a hymnal that includes 19th/early 20th century “revival” hymns, you should be able to find “This World Is Not My Home.” If not, here’s a snippet:
This world is not my home, I’m just a passin’ through;
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world any more.
Chorus: Oh, Lord, you know I have no friend like you;
If heaven’s not my home, then Lord, what will I do?
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world any more.
Isn’t that sweet? I love the image of “heaven’s open door.” A beautiful, homey image of the love of God.
Dear Michelle, I moved around a lot as a child. Now I’ve called the same place “home” for over 30 years. Northwest Oregon is a beautiful place, but I long for that perfect place that is heaven. While I’m here, though I’ll try to live my best life through Christ, spreading as much love and kindness as I can. Thank you for your wise words.
Hi Irene, I’ve never been to Oregon, but it sounds lovely! For so many people, home is an uncomfortable space of pain and even ugliness. God comforts them with the reminder and the hope that their current home is only temporary. But, even for those who have been blessed with beauty in their earthly homes, we can see a glimpse of the even greater and perfect home to come. So, amen! I love your perspective and commitment to living your “best life through Christ” now, and using your home as a vehicle for that.
This article really hit home for me …. I grew up in a foreign country but always had a home in U. S. A. After a 28year marriage here in Fl, I have had to move out of my home. I have found a temporary place to live furnished. Yesterday, I contacted the landlord & asked her if I could buy a couch & two chairs on my expense to make this place feel more like home to me for the time being. She was gracious & told me we would work something out.
Thank you for reminding me that this is not my forever home & circumstances always are changing due to God’s plan for our lives. However he is not. He is always the same. And he is with us to the end of time.
Karen – I can’t even imagine what you are going through right now. I’m so so sorry to hear about the loss of more than just your home. Please know that you have a community at (in)courage that cares for you and that hears your voice. I am grateful that your landlord has been helpful and kind. I will be praying for you, for God to provide a more stable living situation and to show you His comfort and care during this difficult time.
Dear Michelle,
I, too, grew up in Minnesota! All that you described brought back such happy memories. Winters were long and cold, but as children, we didn’t mind because we lived by a large hill where sledding was perfect! I remember the huge icicles hanging from our house and garage….the beauty of trees laden with sparkling snow with sun shining on them. As I grew up, and adult responsibilities became my job, shoveling snow and driving on icy roads removed some of the glamour I felt as a child. But, most importantly, Minnesota was where my home was. Home is such a beautiful, comforting word! My parents made our ‘house’ a home by the way they nurtured us. An example was set to help me make a true ‘home’, in turn, for my children. Now, in my ‘golden years’ I see my grandchildren making true ‘homes’ for their families. I now live in Florida….snow is not a part of my winters anymore, and the thought of Heaven is beautiful!! So nice to hear from another ‘former Minnesotan’! God bless you!
Hi Mary, I love the Minnesotan connection! There are so few Minnesotans in Austin 🙂 What a beautiful picture of how home can be passed down as a legacy to our children. The place in which we live is a gift from God, something we can steward, and pass on those who come after us. Love that!
Michelle,
I lived in Florida for about 20 years. Did not enjoy the heat & humidity. I longed for mountains & seasons. Now I’ve moved to Upper E. TN with the smoky mountains all around me. I feel like this is a great temporary home for me. This world down here is getting more evil daily. I can’t bear to listen to the news anymore. So much random killing, & hatred going on. When I hear a song with the lyrics “Jesus is coming” I often look up & say “come now Lord I’m ready”. I think with all the craziness in this world–preachers preaching what “our itching ears” want to hear & not telling the truth (false prophets), LGBTQ, no school prayers, no reading Bible, etc. my heart, soul & body is tired of fighting this fight down here. I
feel more ready for my permanent home in Heaven than ever before. Ready for peace, contentment & spending my days praising the one who died for me on the cruel cross.
Blessings 🙂
Each time we’ve moved to a different community (eight times), I’ve struggled with being a stranger in a new place. It’s taken awhile for the location to feel like home. But! The moment we enter heaven we’ll have that sense of being home immediately, a place where we belong. Praise God for the welcome that awaits! And thank you, Michelle, for reminding us of our glorious future.