This story doesn't have an ending yet, even as I begin to write out the idea I know it doesn't. You see, I'm sitting here missing home.
And I struggle with the idea that I no longer have a home.
The place I've called home for the last 2 years, isn't home anymore. The general area I lived in for the past 10 years, it's not home anymore.
If I stood up today, and said "I've had it, I'm going back home.", I've realized that there is no place to go to.
But here's what I began to wonder, as I longed for the settled and comfortable feeling of 'home'. I've never been to my real home. You see, when I die and leave this house, this state, my friends and family, I'll go home. A place where I will never long for anything else, ever again.
And I'm thankful for this... unsettling lesson about where I am truly supposed to consider myself settled.
Because as Christ prepares Heaven for my arrival, I doubt He considered Whitesboro, Texas my "home". It was just a place to be until such time as I can go home.
I wonder how many opportunities are lost, refused, rejected, or not even considered, because they involve us giving up our settled-ness, our comfort, our familiar. While I latch on to things, trying to claim them as my own so I can feel validated, accepted, and comfortable - I wonder if God looks on with eyes seeing me as a child trying to make a Wal-Mart their home. If your child did that, you'd think he'd lost his mind, "You're not going to stay here." would be the first reasoning you'd give as to the foolishness.
I'm not going to stay here on earth. My home is somewhere else.
But for my actions, my desires, my longings to change - I need God to change my heart. So when I sit down to long for home - I long for the right one.