This past week has been full of all kinds of things: high school plays (Fiddler on the Roof and Peter Pan), time at the beach with friends, time on the Frisbee field with friends, hugs and deep conversations with people that I have not seen in a long time, silly movie nights and learning funny dance moves, and lots and lots of driving.
My spring break travels from school took me all around the south east – and specifically to my old haunts in Florida. As much as I love where I live now in North Carolina, I found myself quite excited to see the place I had lived the previous two years. A year ago, before I was about to move, if you had asked me if I would want to go back, I honestly don’t know what my answer would have been. I love the people there, but the place was not my favorite. And yet….as I drove around and saw the beaches and the familiar stores and houses…there was a stirring in me.
And I realized…I love the familiar.
I love the knowing.
Knowing where this street will end…what is around the corner over there…where my friend lives down that street…what time church starts on Sunday…
Knowing gives you a sense of belonging.
I realized that such a feeling is true of all of my “homes”.
I have the strongest feeling of coming home when I go to the house I grew up in Pennsylvania. A friend once told me that my face lights up when I get closer to it. I love it – the house itself, the yard, the garden, the memories…and especially the ones waiting for me once I get in the doors.
I feel like I’m coming home when I visit Grove City College – a wonderful place where I spent four years of my life getting my college degree. I met some of my best friends there, and was deeply challenged to grow in so many ways…spiritually, socially, academically, etc. And although most of the people I know from GCC no longer go/work there, I still love to visit. I love to sit in the chapel and…remember.
I have yet to visit Germany again, but I have no doubt that it would feel like a homecoming of sorts…to yet again drive up that steep, winding hill to Marzell and the wonderful Blauen dorm, in which there are so many good memories. To drive down the streets of Kandern and…remember.
It’s familiar.
And because of the time I’ve spent there and the memories I’ve made, it’s a home.
So, even in Florida – with its rather hot climate and slightly rude inhabitants (not all, mind you) – I felt like I was coming home. I was coming to the familiar.
It made me think. What is my true home? And what will I feel when I get there?
If the feeling of joy in coming back depends upon the time spent in a place…well, then… how much better will heaven be if I spend more time with Jesus here?
If the feeling of joy in coming back depends upon good memories, not bad…well, then… how much better will heaven be if I seek to do Jesus’ will and please Him here?
It will truly be more like coming HOME than anywhere else.
Heaven is not going to be about the streets of gold or the crowns we will receive. We’ll be tossing those back at Jesus’ feet as our gift to Him, anyway. Heaven’s joy will be found in seeing Jesus! And the more I memorize Him – His characteristics, His desires, what brings Him joy and grief – the more I spend time with Him and look in His face…..the more I will feel like I’m home when I finally get to see Him.
C.S. Lewis says, “Our Father refreshes us on the journey with some pleasant inns, but will not encourage us to mistake them for home.”
How I have loved the “homes” the Lord has given me here thus far. (And not always in the moment…sometimes more afterwards…) Yet – may I never mistake them for my true home.
Last Friday during Fiddler on the Roof, I found myself crying when a student sang “Far from the Home I Love”. The words of that song are sad…a girl leaving her family…leaving everything she knew…to be with the man she loves.
“Oh what a melancholy choice this is,
Wanting home, wanting him,
Closing my heart to every hope but his,
Leaving the home I love.
There where my heart has settled long ago,
I must go, I must go,
Who could imagine I’d be wandering so
Far from the home I love…”
Seems sad, eh? To leave home…to leave the things she remembered…the people she loves. Yet the last line of that song is so beautiful.
“Yet, there with my love, I’m home.”
I couldn’t help but think – no matter where I go here on earth – when I’m with my Love (Jesus) and following His leading, I am in a home of sorts. Yet someday – when I get to heaven – away from the distractions of this world and the confusion of what’s important – I will get to forever gaze on His face – and forever be with Him.
It's truly where I belong.
Finally, Home.
