My Home

Home.

Such a wonderful word, isn’t it?

Home is a safe place. Home is the shelter I know so well, and yet, sometimes, I struggle to describe it or can’t remember if I ever noticed that aspect before. Home is the haven I always miss when I’m gone on a trip, and love returning to. Home is where I’m comfortable and relaxed. Sometimes being/living at home quickly gets old/boring/frustrating; but if I pause to think of one day leaving and only coming back for visits, I get emotional and realize how much I love this old house and dread having to move.

I love the feeling I get when I’ve been away for awhile and finally walk back in–that feeling of “Ah, I’m home.” It’s good to get away sometimes, yes, but it’s good to come back to the oh-so-familiar. Good to shower in my own shower, sleep in my own bed, eat at my own table, just be at my own place. Good to not live out of my luggage. Good to know where everything belongs. Good to be totally comfortable digging in the fridge or cupboards for a snack.

When I’m hurt or scared or sick, I want to go home. When I’m tired or bored, I want to go home. When I’ve just been around other people too long, I want to go home.

I want Jesus to be my Home.

I want Him to be that safe place, that haven I miss if I go away and delight in returning to. I want Him to be the shelter I know so well, and yet, sometimes, struggle to describe or wonder if I’ve ever comprehended that aspect of Him before. I want Him to be the Someone/Someplace where I’m comfortable and relaxed. I want–if I ever think of leaving Him–to get emotional, and realize how much I love Him and don’t want to leave. I want to come to Him and get that feeling of “Ah, I’m home.” I want to love coming back to the oh-so-familiar. I want to be totally comfortable with being myself, totally comfortable with just being at Home.

And I want my love for my Home to spill over to others. I want to invite others to my Home all the time. I want them to desire to come to my Home, and to spend time there, and to be comfortable there. I want them to make my Home their Home.

I want my Home to be incorporated into my house. I want people to walk in and feel the presence of God, of love, of joy, of safety, of contentment. I want others to feel safe and loved there, and to leave encouraged and inspired and filled (physically and spiritually 😊).

I want my Home to permeate my life. I want others to see that I’ve got a Place–a great Place–and I love it. I want “real estate agents” or “divorce lawyers” to look at me and know that I’m content right where I’m at and with Whom I’m with, and I can’t imagine leaving.

When I’m hurt or scared or sick, I want to go Home. When I’m tired or bored, I want to go Home. When I’ve just been around other people too long, I want to go Home.

Speaking of “I want to go home”. . . I want to get to the point where I have to–want to–get away from the world and my life for a bit–even if I’m doing fine–and be with Him. Or maybe, never have to say “I want to go Home,” because I’m already there, I’m constantly in that dwelling place.

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Home is defined, in part, as “a place where something flourishes.” I want Jesus to be my Home, the place where I flourish and grow and thrive and am found.

Gabrielle Wesseldyk says, “Home is where you are loved wholly and unconditionally, without barriers, restrictions, judgments, or expectations. Home is where you are most comfortable being your absolute self–where you are treasured and celebrated…” (She was talking about when home is a person, like, when you fall in love; but I’m applying it to our relationship with Jesus. 😊) I want to remember that Jesus loves me wholly, unconditionally, without barriers or restrictions or judgments or expectations. He treasures and celebrates me; Zephaniah 3:17 says that God sings over us–sings! about me! When I’m with Jesus, I want to be okay with totally being myself, to be absolutely open and authentic; I want to realize I don’t have to hide who I am (because He already knows who I am, even better than I know).

Home could be defined as the place where we’re most happy, comfortable, etc. Saint Augustine of Hippo said, “Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.” I want to keep in mind that I can only be truly happy and at rest when Jesus is my Home.

Habitat for Humanity asked people what home means to them. They answered: it’s where you “have all you need”; it “means a new chapter” and “a fresh new start”; “A home means a stable foundation”; “Home means a future… Home is the base where everything begins.”
I want to remember that Jesus–as my Home–provides all I need, gives me a new chapter and fresh start, is a stable foundation (Matthew 7:24-27) and the base where everything begins. Jeremiah 29:11 says that God knows the plans He has for me, plans “to give you a future and a hope” (ESV); Jesus makes me able to have that future and hope.

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Wow, this turned into a long, somewhat-disjointed post. 😄 Anyway, what are your thoughts?