I have ALWAYS told my children that “home is where the heart is”. And I do firmly believe that, so why title a post “A Heart Without A Home”?
Throughout my children’s lives we have lived in several different towns and in several different homes. The Mister and I continued that pattern after they both graduated from high school by taking a working tour of Texas. Now we find ourselves homeless and living with our oldest daughter and her husband.
We have been living with them since the first of August (new home building in progress) and it has been nice getting to share dinners with her and her husband in the evenings. We have even shared some weekend shopping time together and that has brought back such sweet memories. They recently purchased a new home, so it has been really nice cooking in a kitchen bigger than a cracker box and enjoying the convenience of multiple bathrooms! If you have ever experienced the pleasure of a one bedroom apartment, you know my pain.
Although we have been truly blessed by their generosity I found myself a few days back longing for something. I couldn’t get comfortable and felt really displaced. I usually experience these same feelings right before a big move, but because we had just moved in here I couldn’t get a grasp on why I was feeling this way.
As I contemplated this throughout the day I had an “ah ha” moment. My heart was not in a position to make this it’s home. Webster’s defines Home in this way: a familiar or usual setting; congenial environment; also, the focus of one’s domestic attention. Even in our Texas tour, when we would relocate my heart would begin decorating – visualizing what pictures would go where, how I was going to place the furniture, where kitchen items would be arranged, etc., etc.
This temporary place of residence, even in all it’s beauty, was just that temporary. And my heart knew it, so it was struggling with being in a constant state of unrest. I have since given it a respite by making our room feel a little more like home…a complete mess! Since I can’t hang pictures it’s the least I could do.
This new feeling has really made me re-think some things I was pretty sure of before. Not really sure I could have answered the same call that was given to Jesus’ disciples…to give up a place to call “home” and make the generosity of others your home (so glad they were able to do that or I would be lost…literally). I have a dream of going to Italy and traveling around the country for months on end, enjoying the scenery, food and people. I am now wondering if my heart’s longing for “home” would shorten my trip or cancel it all together.
Through all of this I have realized one thing of importance…my heart needs a place to call home. It has been a trooper through our vagabond lifestyle, but it is now quietly seeking a place to kick back, prop it’s feet up and hang it’s hat! I just hope it’s not opposed to a little renovation occasionally…not sure I can hang up my paint brush, let go of the sewing machine (Okay…it hasn’t been used in a while. There – I admitted it!) or my need for change that easily.