(Yes, this will in fact be a typical cliche returning home blog but I press forward anyway because truth is truth.)
Upon my arrival back in the US I decided to take a couple days to myself at the nearest beach to try an process returning "home."
I sit here and stare at my surroundings and notice that things are indeed different. There is a dull sky, dreary compared to the majesty displayed by the vibrant colors of the canopy above us in Malawi. Before me lies the brown murky waters of the gulf not the crystal clear ocean of, surprisingly enough, Haiti. I lay on a towel seemingly alone instead of with the constant companionship of 6 amazing women and the frequently frustrating buddy system imposed on us by our authorities.
It's true. Things are not the same.
I am not on the Race with all that entails and I'm no longer exploring an eclectic grouping of countries some of whom I had never heard of before setting my sights on entering them.
But "welcome home"? Well, that isn't quite fitting. The truth is, I never left Home. And I think that is why an immense sadness is not hitting me quite the way I expected. I never left Home because my Home is wherever my Father is. So be it Romania, Tanzania, the DR, or Houston, I am Home when I am with my Father. This year I not only didn't leave Home, I was invited to explore my Home even further. I was taken into rooms that I never knew existed. I was given responsibilities of being a child in that Home but much, much more than that, I was lavished with the love that comes from being and knowing you are a cherished child in this Home.
So yeah, my surroundings may look different at an initial glance, but I still see Kingdom. I still see redeemed, dearly loved people inside the house and those still waiting to hear that they have been invited to enter or are welcome to return. I still see a place where my Father has complete control and love abounds, even when it is resisted.
For those of you that have really been traveling away from Home- that only see the four walls of your place of residence or work or the enclosed walls of your chosen state of mind, I want to extend you an invitation- an invitation to journey Home. To come to this place of unconditional love and refuge from the chaos, hurt, and disappointment that this world has offered you. I want you to choose today to return Home to the warm and forever gracious and loving embrace of your Father. To dare to explore more of the rooms instead of running already overwhelmed by the love felt in the foyer. I promise you it is safe. It is worth overcoming the fear. No matter how long it takes you to walk up the steps and turn the knob of the front door, we will be waiting here for you eager to say, "Welcome Home."
Psalm 27:4
One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in his temple.
