I've been thinking a lot about "homesickness" these days. Why am I homesick for certain places I've been and not for others? Why am I homesick for places I've never been? Will this feeling ever go away? Am I, deep down, really just homesick for heaven and if so, will spend my entire life on Earth restlessly searching among secondary options?
Let's start at the root, shall we? I started thinking about all the places I felt homesick for. Places like Montana and Arizona, Colorado and Kentucky, Costa Rica and Honduras, Chicago and the Wyoming wilderness, the Apostle Islands and the Gila in New Mexico. I accredited this longing to my deep desire for adventure and nature, but a conversation with a friend has had me thinking that this might not be the whole story. I asked him if he ever got homesick for places he's been. He responded with something like a "Oh my goodness, YES!" and began to rattle off all the places he's lived and longs to be. Then he said something flippantly that hit me hard: "I long most for the places that I've been and have known the Lord there."
Let's start at the root, shall we? I started thinking about all the places I felt homesick for. Places like Montana and Arizona, Colorado and Kentucky, Costa Rica and Honduras, Chicago and the Wyoming wilderness, the Apostle Islands and the Gila in New Mexico. I accredited this longing to my deep desire for adventure and nature, but a conversation with a friend has had me thinking that this might not be the whole story. I asked him if he ever got homesick for places he's been. He responded with something like a "Oh my goodness, YES!" and began to rattle off all the places he's lived and longs to be. Then he said something flippantly that hit me hard: "I long most for the places that I've been and have known the Lord there."
That is what has got me thinking.
Maybe it's not the actual places I miss after all. I learn best by experiences and thus crave experiences with my creator. I long to be pushed to the end of who I am so I can experience the way the He fills in that gap. I miss knowing that I can't rely on myself and must daily ask for strength. I miss the uncertainty of every day, waking up to a thousand unknowns to watch how they play out through the day. THIS! This is living.
I wake up to this life every morning, but have lacked the eyes to see it. Things in my life have slowed down considerably, but it's still the same God. I may wake up in the same house every day for three months, but I still have that same need to experience Him. There may not be an under resourced, unreached, non-English speaking group of people before me waiting to hear about Jesus, but there is still that same list of opportunities to be at the end of myself. There may not be a mountain to climb or a sea to cross, but there's still that same need to ask for strength. There may be less variables to my day, but there is still that same uncertainty of every moment.
And for me, this is home.
I wake up to this life every morning, but have lacked the eyes to see it. Things in my life have slowed down considerably, but it's still the same God. I may wake up in the same house every day for three months, but I still have that same need to experience Him. There may not be an under resourced, unreached, non-English speaking group of people before me waiting to hear about Jesus, but there is still that same list of opportunities to be at the end of myself. There may not be a mountain to climb or a sea to cross, but there's still that same need to ask for strength. There may be less variables to my day, but there is still that same uncertainty of every moment.
And for me, this is home.
