Home. A four-letter word laden with meaning. For some, the word “home” signifies warmth, love, acceptance, and belonging. For others, “home” is negative based upon past experiences of abuse, rejection, or discontentment. Perhaps for some, the word “home” carries no meaning at all because it (whatever “it” is) has not been experienced.
We have been contemplating the meaning of “home” a lot lately in the past several weeks. After selling and moving out of our house that we built 10 1/2 years ago, we grieved the loss of what we conceived “home,” in part, to be.
Throughout a decade in our house, we formed many wonderful memories together– having church in our kitchen, sharing eternal conversations with friends over fabulous meals, numerous Christmas parties and holiday gatherings, praying in our living room over friends departing for foreign lands, singing together around the piano, quiet evenings of contemplation on the deck…. The list goes on and on. To borrow a friend’s expression, we experienced the “texture” of life in those moments.
Beyond leaving our house, we will soon be leaving Indianapolis, a city we have called “home” for the past 11 years, to make a new home in an unknown city on a different continent, half-way across the world from where we currently live.
If we define “home” solely by our physical address, we will be perpetually disappointed, saddened, and disillusioned by our surroundings, wherever we find ourselves to be.
When we truly examine the concept of “home,” however, we understand that it exists in relationships, not a physical structure or space. Home is where we are with each other. Or with our “tribe”– dear friends and family– when we have the privilege of being together. Most importantly, home is with our Savior, who dwells within us.
Jesus instructed his disciples to “abide” (also translated as “make yourself at home”) in his love. (John 15:9) It is abiding in Christ’s love that defines home, a place that transcends insignificant worries and endless transitions. A place where belonging means being still, resting quietly in His love so that we can love others out of the overflow.
We have to draw near to Him in order to abide. For some (like us), that may mean giving up a physical place we once called home to meet Him where He dwells in a different part of the Kingdom.
In describing great men and women of faith who were called out of their physical homes to traverse to unknown places, Scripture says that they “acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth.” (Hebrews 11:13 (ESV)) They didn’t define “home” in a physical sense because they viewed themselves as foreigners, regardless of where they physically resided. Rather, they were seeking “home” in a Kingdom sense: “For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one.” (vv. 14-16)
These saints desired and sought out Kingdom country. They traded physical comfort for heavenly vision– dying “in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar.” (v. 13) In return, “God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.” (v. 16) He knows where their true home is.
As we embark on this next stage of the journey, we find peace in these promises. No matter where we may physically reside, we are always with Christ, abiding in His love. Our true citizenship is in His Kingdom, which our spirit already calls home.
