Home. Four little letters that stir up an abyss of emotions in us all.
Adam and Eve had the perfect, voicecrafted home. A newlywed couple’s dream. It was ideal; the interior design exquisite. Unfortunately, their choices also led to their eviction notice. They had to build a home somewhere else. Something that was forever tarnished when compared to their first home.
Abraham had a pretty good home. Then one day, God said pack up and go. Not even a hint of where, let alone the home he was going to have. Lot picked what looked like the best land, but Abraham had God’s promise for his home.
Joseph was the favoured child in his home. Looking to trade animosity and hatred for peace, the older brothers teamed up to get rid of Joseph. Instead, their home became a dismal abode of depression, guilt, shame and secrecy. Joseph, meanwhile, made the most of all his homes. Including the prison, where he was a model prisoner.
An unnamed lady turned her home upside down, as she scoured for her precious, lost coin. Her set was incomplete, and she refused to rest until it was found. When the coin turned up, her home was a place of celebration.
A rebellious young son demanded his inheritance and ran far away from home. Subject to poverty, watching pigs feast on slop that seemed gourmet to his ravenous eyes, the young son realized that home was a pretty decent place. Even the servants had it much better than he did in that moment, so he returned home, where he was welcomed with open arms.
Jesus, God the Son, left His heavenly home to live here with us. Born among animals, raised in a home where the man who helped raise Him wasn’t technically His Father, He still learned carpentry alongside him. When the time was right, Jesus left home and officially began His ministry. He owned only the clothes on His back. While foxes and birds had homes, Jesus didn’t even know where He’d sleeping from one night to the next.
In all these stories, home was different for everyone. Ceiling height, interest rates, paint colour was not the main focus here. The lived, laughed, loved and lost in their homes. Dysfunction and despair was present from the very beginning of time. Yet, so was forgiveness and grace.
The point, for me, is to live my best in my home. Every marked wall has a “proud” story behind it, as do most stains. My perceived condition of my home should not stop me from sharing God’s blessings with others.
There is a message in the mess.
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Yes, I just stopped abruptly. It’s like my girls have an inner radar: “It’s FMF–mom’s trying to write–let’s all team up and interrupt her!” Besides, I thought the imperfect ending was fitting when talking about ‘home’. Your turn. Grab 5 minutes and your favourite writing methods and write freely.
