"Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a
building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands." 2 Corinthians 5:1
I love all things home. I get a thrill from paint chips, a butterfly in the tummy from funky furniture, a giddy feeling from seeing the perfect placement of cheery pillows on a sofa or bed. Yes, Pinterest is my friend, and also my enemy. What often begins as a few minutes of gathering cozy ideas to apply to my house often ends up being a reminder that what I need to transform my house into the idyllic combined farm/beach house is beyond my budget, time, and talents.
Nesting is a good thing. Momma birds lovingly prepare a home for their babies. We human parents enjoy doing the same for our families. Homes are at their best when they are a reflection (a small at best is our human hope) of heaven. But sometimes, I know that I, and maybe you, struggle to remember that while our homes can provide a sanctuary, they are not heaven. They are not forever.
A few years ago I was talking with a friend about the reality that her family may soon lose their home. I asked her how she was coping with the uncertainty of not knowing where her family may have to live if foreclosure proceedings continued. Her response still rings in my heart, "If we lose everything, we still have a Home in heaven." Yes, this friend is amazing. Her certainty of knowing her eternal address and not forgetting it during times of earthly crisis humbled and encouraged me.
We currently are living in a rental (small) house (that doesn't quite feel like home). Praying fervently that our house back "east" sells so we can put a down payment on the dream home we've found. Every few days I check the listing website to see if "our" house is still available. My heart rests when I see that no one has purchased it yet. Through several different devotions I have read, God has been speaking to me about not making the "perfect has everything I've ever imagined" house an idol. Not putting my "then my family will feel like we're home and everyone will get along better" hopes on an address. He is reminding me that while we enjoy glimpses of heaven in our homes, we're not there yet.
I hope if you, like me, enjoy pinning photos of just right rooms and perfect paint palettes, that together we will do so with the perspective of eternity and remember the old song's words, "This world is not my home, I'm just a -passin' through."
Thank you, Sarah! I bemoan the fact, so often, that our house here is not the home we left behind in Oregon. I loved that house and still do - we will go back there someday. But I'm finding as God works on my heart, this house in SD is getting to be more like home all the time - and I also recognize the fact that both of these houses are our temporal dwellings here on earth - Heaven is our home and oh how I look forward to going there when God calls me home!
ReplyDeleteLorilee,
ReplyDeleteThanks for the "visit." Your words could be my own. My thoughts often return to former addresses and the memories that were made in each. Thankful for the lessons learned and love shared at each place.