Am I Homeless?

Home - "A place where a person or family lives, perhaps spends much of their time, or where a person is comfortable being."

A home for me is more than a four corner space where one lingers while devouring time for self-amusement. It is more than a sturdy roof that shelters me from the heat of the sun and protects me from the wrath of the storm. A home for me simply is a sanctuary, a safe haven, a comfort zone so to speak.

I have begun to notice in recent weeks that my idea of home, with all its comforts and security, has proven to be less of a reality than my heart had hoped to find. My past experience of home with all its warm, cozy memories has seemingly eluded me as God appears to be redefining what this really means at this point in my walk.

Now don't get me wrong here...I do recognize all the beautiful things/people/places tied to my hometown that have brought me great joy and loving acceptance, and continue to do so. For that I am grateful beyond words. But what I'm speaking of is the difference between hometown and HOME. I have noticed a shift in where my comfort, my shalom lies....and it isn't found in my old stomping grounds. It has occurred to me that the more I step into my love for Christ and the closer my heart burns into His, the further I am pulled away from this world and all its unsatisfying offers.

Let me explain.

Contrary to the popular propaganda that reads "Jesus is Homeless," I have entertained the thought that HE is in fact home. That the rest, the security, the profound peace to which our hearts long, is discovered when we dwell in, or upon, the One that has promised us these very things and so much more....if only we will walk through the door of His dwelling. True, we must not expect a fancy door like you might see on the banks of Beverly Hills. It may not even resemble that of the cookie-cutter subdivisions of middle-class America. I think more accurately we could expect a one-room, humble shack similar to those you might find in say, the slums of Cambodia. The kind where there is no door, as it displays an open invitation to come and rest. We must always remember that with the Kingdom of God, things aren't always as they appear.

And this brings me back to the question, "Am I Homeless?" In the sense of the world, yes - I do not have those four walls to claim as my own. But as I walk as a foreigner on this earth, I can rest, I can sit in peace in the sanctuary of my Savior. Let me go home.

"They agreed that they were no more than foreigners and nomads here on earth. And people who talk like that are looking forward to a country they can call their own. If they had meant the country they cam from, they would have found a way to go back. But they were looking for a better place, a heavenly homeland." Hebrews 11:13-16

"The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us." John 1:14

Rejected but not Defeated

It's been a rollercoaster of a ride this past month, transitioning from urban culture to rural customs and a schedule that breathed serving and ministry to one that has involved rest and reflection.  We are doing our best to live in the present as we entrust God with all the uncertainties that lie ahead; all the questions swimming through our thoughts.  Surprisingly, I feel a deep sense of peace as the days unfold one at a time.

Something I have been anticipating for months (aside from Chipotle) is the return back to my women's group on Monday nights.  I have looked forward to hearing how God has been moving in each person's heart as we enter back into that priceless gift of community.  Not only do we share some laughs while gathering around the table, but we also get the occasional perk of leaving with a giant bag of clothes from someone's closet-gleaning expenditure.  Ahh, the many benefits of the ya-ya sisterhood.    

 

Two nights ago, my mates and I made the decision to spend our alloted time performing a kind deed for our neighbors.  Neighbor in the literal sense - we determined to bake and bestow some goodies in an attempt to foster friendship and community with the neighbors down the street.  As the gooey treats filled the house with sugary scents, we all felt a sense of excitement in our attempt to be Christ on display through this small act of love.

Ten houses later my eagerness turned to disappointment.  Though a few houses hesitatingly accepted our gifts, others flagrantly rejected us.  One actually responded by turning the porch light on, looking directly at us through a window, and turning the light back off.  Ouch.  Here we were, 5 young innocent-looking women with plates of compassion in our hands, receiving reactions of shock as if we were involved in a conspiracy to poison all who took a taste.  One saving grace was our final house - a birthday party with several 4-year-olds running around on sugar highs greeted us with cheers and applause.  They received TWO plates of cookies.

I suppose I came into this moment with high expectations - hopes that people would feel loved, and perhaps make a new friend.   And maybe, just maybe we might receive an invitation to come in and stay a while.  Alas, this was not the case.  I quickly became aware of the walls that we surround ourselves with - not just in the figurative sense but also literally, as the walls of our homes act as cocoons where we lock away our lives.  I became conscious of a state of fear as the faces revealed questions of "Are you here to hurt me?"  and "What's REALLY in those cookies?"  Some even thought there was a catch, as we were offered money in exchange for this deed.  

Perhaps the days of yore are gone.  Perhaps I expected too much too quickly.  Yet there's something inside of me that screams NO, you were not created for isolation.  You are designed for each other.  And as I ponder the grand scheme of things, the monumental task of fostering community in a nation where independence from others is the name of the game, I can't help but become overwhelmed.  

And then I give it to God.  

While it's true that we mustn't stand by while this detachment separates us from all we are created to be, there exists a need for surrender for fear of becoming buried in discouragement and frustration.  Though I grieve the loss of the goodness that can indeed exist, I still choose to remain undefeated as we co-labor with the one who accomplishes all things with a love that has already defeated death.  

Yes, even death on a cross.