Longing for Home

Sarah and I are slowly packing away the last of our possessions in preparation for the closing for the sale of our house, and while it's been a tremendous marital bonding time (pulling late-nighters doing manual labor with good music playing in the background does that), I have to confess that it's somewhat heart-wrenching. This was our first home that we purchased together, and it was at this house where we bought our newborn son and daughter home from the hospital. This house, in a mere five years, has seen the entire lives and growth of our two children and holds a great deal of wonderful memories.

Add to this the current situation of not knowing when (or even if) we'll be able to finalize the purchase of our next house. I won't get into details here, but contractual snags somewhat typical of a complicated sale have left us somewhat in the dark. Add to this a layer of uncertainty around a possible job move, and it stands to be a time of uncertainty for our family. At very least, we're inevitably going to be relying upon temporary housing as we wait for our purchase to resolve, and in the interim we'll be living with nearby relatives. For how long, we just don't know.

It's dawned upon me that this empty feeling of "homelessness" (I'm hesitant in using this term, but I'll get into this later) may very well be inherent in all of us - or put another way, each of us as humans longs for a sense of "home". Each of us desires to find that place of safety, comfort and familiarity and there's surely a sense of accomplishment owning your own little domain.

In the past year, the loss of home has been all too familiar for many Americans. Between the crumbling job economy and the plunging housing values, many people are finding themselves in houses that they can no longer afford. Many people in each social class have needed to "downgrade" their housing to financially survive, and some have needed to move in with relatives or into shelters on a semi-permanent basis. Foreclosures have been plentiful, and even the most affluent communities haven't been spared. For many, the American dream has become a nightmare. This is not the situation which my wife and I find ourselves in, and for that we are both grateful as well as sympathetic to those who are suffering far more than inconvenience and some degree of uncertainty.

I think the concept of "home" is illustrated well in the movie "Munich", where a Palestinian militant named Ali engages in an argument with Avner, who unbeknownst to him, is actually an Israeli operative. When Avner downplays the importance of the Palestinians having their own homeland, Ali answers "You don't know what it is not have a home. You say it's nothing, but you have a home to come back to. Home is everything."

For those of us who count ourselves to be Christians, I would submit that our whole concept of "home" should be molded by the truths that we are sojourners in this world, walking by faith in what will be an important, yet temporary, stay. Furthermore, understanding that we are truly stewards, not owners, of the things around us ought to bring us to the understanding that if "home" is the place where we ultimately find shelter, refuge and safety - "home" is in its most truest sense God Himself. He is where safety, refuge, and security is most profoundly experienced, and He is unforecloseable, to boot.

So while this season is admittedly difficult, I hope and pray this will be a good time for my wife and I to be reminded of where our hearts ought to find "Home". It'll be valuable for us to recognize God's grace even in our current situation, especially in light of many others for whom "homelessness" with much less comfort is a long-term reality with no end in sight. I can talk a good game about putting my trust in God and not finding my identity in a house full of possessions - I think it'll be good to test that at least to some degree.