IS THIS MY HOME?

“Are you my mother?” a newly hatched bird chirps to anyone and everything she meets in the children’s book, Are You My Mother? And while the readers know the bulldozer most certainly is not the hatchling’s mom, somehow the little bird just isn’t quite sure who is or where to find her mother. But I can identify with the uncertainty this hatchling feels. Sometimes I ask the same question over and over again: is this my home?

Home can be elusive. I haven’t lived anywhere for more than three years—much less permanently in any location for the past seventeen years. I can’t even return to my hometown because my family relocated to another state after my college days. I feel like a perpetual wanderer. Even nomads revisit the same vicinities seasonally, but I never seem to return to the same place twice.

Sometimes I imagine home as the solution to the yearning of my heart. If I remained in one place for decades, then my ministry would flourish and I’d have friendships that weather the ups and downs of life. I’d have relationships that knew me growing up, as a newlywed, and navigating motherhood. I wouldn’t be forgotten as others invest into their established lives while mine resets every few years. And the exhaustion of starting over yet again wouldn’t exist. For with each new beginning, the same question echoes in my mind: is this my home?

Desiring stability in calling a place home isn’t wrong, but we can falsely believe God is withholding good or that we’ll be satisfied when home—however we envision it—materializes. But if we turn to the pages of Scripture, a clear picture of home takes shape: home is being known by God and with Him.

Read the rest of my Velvet Ashes article.