Home, Sweet Home

Eight. That’s how many times I’ve moved in the past three years. That’s how many houses I’ve called home In this most recent stretch of life in west Africa. My things have gotten very used to being in a suitcase, but strangely enough, my heart has also gotten very used to making even a six week dwelling into a place called home. 

We brought in all the luggage and set it in a pile on the living room floor. Before a single thing was unpacked, the “moving team” gathered around and prayed. Prayed for Megan and I, prayed for our new house, prayed for the work and ministry we will do inside and outside the walls of this home. And just like that, this adorable two bedroom, one bath African house became home, for it had been dedicated to God. And to both Megan and I, God has already clearly prepared it for us according to his divine scheming. 

I hung my clothes in an armoir, put sheets on the bed, put some food in the pantry, and hung curtains. I’m a nester, you could say, but I think everybody has something they do in order to make a house feel like a home. For me, it was putting a tablecloth on our table, hanging my pictures on the wall, and rigging up a pretty janky hanging system for our shower curtain, which including hammering several nails into a concrete wall. It wasn’t easy, it’s certainly not pretty, but it does the trick and I’m proud of it. Yes, it’s beginning to feel like home already. 

Thinking about how many times I’ve moved for various reasons in the last three years makes my head spin, but thinking about all the people I’ve met along the way makes me want to never settle down and keep sojourning like this for the rest of my life. 

Sometimes I wonder if the next place will be one where I stay for a while, a place to nest a little more permanently. (Or at least a year for goodness sake!) But then I think about how much God has taught me when I am constantly moving and voyaging - like the Israelites in their desert wanderings, moving from camp to camp until they reached the promised land. In a way, God has given me my daily manna. He has made water come from the rock. And he has guided me faithfully, not with a pillar of fire or cloud, but with his Holy Spirit, who teaches me along the way about his presence and provision, about what is important and what is futile, what is permanent versus fleeting.

All of these are lessons about what home really is - not a place with a porch but a state of heart with the people and the place God has given you. And just like there are certain things you can only learn at rest, there are other things you can only learn while in motion. Some things are learned when you settle down, others are learned on the road. As for me, I’m still on the road, awaiting the time when God will teach me the lessons of stillness when I’m settled, but joyfully living fully in the restlessness and constant adventuring with him. 

I put things on the shelf, already thinking about how I will be packing them back up in six months. Is it worth it? I find myself asking. 

And I answer myself, of course it is. 

For this is the momentary home God has provided, and I will be all here for this temporary time. 

I found some pictures on the wall that the previous owner had left, and I almost took them down until something stopped me. No, leave them up. They serve as a reminder that this home doesn’t actually belong to me; it is just temporary, just like every house I’ll ever own (even if it ends up being for twenty years - imagine such a thought!). 

For this life is so very transient, and I’m humming the old hymn that says, “this world is not my home, I’m just a passin’ though...” 

Perhaps that’s the greatest joy of having to move so much. Each time I pack and unpack bags, I crave a heavenly home more and more. For as much as I love to travel and explore and mix things up, there is something buried deep down in me that makes me want to get somewhere and stay forever. I know where that is. “He has set eternity in our hearts,” and our promised land awaits. Our tent dwelling days will be over as well as our desert wanderings, and we will see him face to face in all his fullness and glory. Home, sweet home.