For every season I enter, the Lord will whisper a word or phrase to me.

Sometimes, it immediately clicks. Others, He shows His sweet relentless pursuit by showing these words to me in everything I see: gardens, trees, clouds, butterflies. I’ve been given words like expand, hope, strength. 

In this particular season, I’m unpacking home. 

“Home” was one of those words that didn’t immediately click with me. People kept going up to me, saying, “The lord told me to tell you that He is your home.” But my human nature chose to ignore it. I didn’t understand it. I’m preparing to leave the country for 11 months, yet the Lord is preparing a home for me in His arms. 

“He already is my home.”, I would say. 

“Then unpack your bags.” He tapped on my shoulder and used a friend of mine to speak this revelation as I stood in Bethel Church. A song was playing about home when I felt the fingers on my shoulder- accompanying lips that were about to pour so much more than they understood into my life. These lips whispered the same thing that had been spoken over me, over and over again. “You go to all of these places- but Jesus wants you to know that He is your home.”

My mind works like an architect. I try to figure out where each wall belongs, the number of square feet that takes up the houses entirety, where to place each glass for the light to crawl in. But my Father is the true creator of this home. He already has the floor plan and is just sitting beside my work table, waiting for me to look over and see His blueprints.

I saw an image of my home- the chamber of my heart. Everything finished- everything the way I thought I wanted it. Then, the Lord showed me what He was making it. He tore down the walls, took off the roof, removed all of the furniture. My heart became an open space. The floor was large and spotless. Perfect for dancing, painting, writing, worshipping- anything I wanted.

The Lord and I looked at it for awhile. “Isn’t it beautiful?”, He asked. I was in awe.

Fly High, Build Home.

The next morning, I found myself standing in Bethel’s book store. The day before, my entire group and I had an encounter with the Lord there- where He used one of the workers to prophesy and speak truth over each of us. The next morning, the Lord’s presence was just as strong. He keeps reminding me that He is always closer than our breath. I faced a wall filled with books and one in particular stuck out to me. I didn’t even read the title, but I knew I had to get it. It was one of the books from the Cageless Birds’ “Cultivate” collection. I had wanted the first one, but the Lord kept nudging, “Get the third”. I immediately bought it, hardly giving it a look, and when I got back into the van, I finally read the title: 

Fly High, Build Home.

The Lord does ironic things like that quite a bit and each time, I can’t help but leave my mouth open in wonder. That voice that we hear in our head, the “conscious”, the encourager, the one that tells us how loved we truly are- is not our own. It’s the voice of the Holy Spirit that has made home within us. When we give Him room to speak, He does. And He leaves us speechless.

So far, each page of this book has been covered from edge-to-edge with prints and poems of what the Lord has already been speaking to me. I find confirmation in this paperback friend of mine that Abba is leading me to home within Him. 

The fruit He gives is a taste of home.

That night, I was sitting with the Lord and I pictured Him handing me an apple. I didn’t really understand it, but took it anyways. The next day, I found myself thinking about the fruits of the Spirit, singing a little song in my head that my fellow church camp counselors and I would sing last year, over and over. The fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, thankfulness, gentleness, and self-control-oh-oh. It was something silly, but a sweet reminder of what fruit I should rest in. As I read that blue book, later that day, I was again reminded of these fruits. 

“The inner chamber of our hearts is the place we play and watch love, joy, peace, goodness, faithfulness, and self-control grow into an orchard. The fruit of this orchard is eternal; not only will it satisfy you, but will create a legacy of the nature of the Lord. You see, the fruit of the Spirit is not something you reach out and grab when you need it; it is something that grows from a life planted in the nature of God. This fruit matures us into whole people who fully enjoy life. This is the home we want to build.” – Melissa Helser // Cultivate

When we abide in Jesus, we begin to walk in an atmosphere of the fruitful garden that we were called to share with the world- we become living Edens. We create a home that is within us and surrounds us in the mold of Heaven’s culture. We throw off the “American dream” of distasteful greed and selfish ambition- and we rest in Heaven on Earth. We become creatures that give off a taste of love and beauty and true humanity- fighting to love and forgive each other with all we have. It looks strange to some, it looks hard to most- but it is all I could ever want besides my sweet Jesus.

Before we bring Heaven to others, we must find rest in Heaven’s culture. We cannot bring a culture to others if we do not fully understand it, ourselves. This culture needs to be home to us.

Continuously unraveling. 

The point of me telling you all this isn’t because I have it all figured out. I can’t give you an exact definition of what this season will look like for me, or for you- if you’re in search of home, as well. I am still in this sweet process of figuring out what unpacking home looks like and in all honesty, I think we all will be unraveling this one for the rest of our lives. I don’t have it all figured out, and I don’t need to. My trust is held by the One who loves me more than I could possibly ever love myself- which is the only One who I would ever want to have the key to my heart and my dreams.

All I know is that Jesus is home. Jesus is everywhere. 

Whether I’m in Ethiopia, India, Cambodia- or Ohio. I’m home. As of right now, I’m just learning how to rest in a home of torn-down walls and free space to dance. I’m learning how to be a good steward of this home- even if it means just spending nights talking by the fire with Jesus and I- or inviting others in. I’m learning how to tend to it’s garden and wake up choosing love and forgiveness over and over again. I’m learning to cast off any anxiety from fundraising or preparation and resting where I am. Each day will bring a new song about this home. Each day, I will learn a new dance on that open floor with Jesus- grabbing His hand and not worrying about missing a step.

And I am so excited for this journey.