In fourteen days I have woken up in four different beds.
I had been silent for much of the morning, avoiding an itch not the result of ants, spiders, or mosquitoes. An itch on the inside. Something that started a few days ago as just a whisper, had now ballooned to a massive hemorrhage. At first thought I chalked it up as homesick. It had been fourteen days since we left Charleston. It must be my longing for things of comfort. It must be my longing for family and friends. It must be my longing for ice and air conditioning. It must be…
This list of longings could go on, but as I began running down the list something became very clear. The things I long for are not the cause of this itch. Something far deeper beneath the surface calls out…
I WANT TO GO HOME
This was hard to admit at first. I am stronger than this desire. I am not THAT guy who wants to give in so soon. I am independent of any silly needs such as wanting to be home. I went on for a while trying to come to terms with this desire of wanting to be home. When I finally gave in I let myself dream. I let myself picture home. I let myself imagine living back in Charleston. This was my moment of letting my guard down…
But then nothing happened. When I let myself really want these things, there was nothing there. Once I had given in to wanting to go home, I realized I really did not want to go home. At least not the idea of home that I have always known home to be. This was something different. This want had deep roots. Then a question popped into my head…
“How can you be home?'”
Then an AHAA moment. That´s it!
We all have this desire. We all have this need. It´s modeled in family, community and culture. The need comes from a separation. Me, being created by God, will only be home when I am reunited with him. Near God is home.
So then there is the question again, “How can you be home?”
Living around the world for a year. Country to country, village to village. Living somewhere just long enough to get settled and then you move.
I am reminded of that cheesy saying, “Home is where the heart is.” When my heart is fully alive in the hands of God I am home. Each day I have that choice. I can live in his hands or weather the storm outside. If home is where the heart is, I want to go home.
