Monday, February 27, 2012


There are days when I don't feel like I belong here.
I am a transplant.
I moved here with my husband and kids because that is where the job is. 
I miss my home town.
I miss everything about it.
Mostly I miss my family relationships.
It seems the more time I spend there, the more I long to be back there.

Over the past few days I was there hanging out with one of my dearest friends,
who also happens to be my sister in law.
Her mom was at the end of her days and while I was there she passed.
I felt so privileged to be with my friend during those moments
and days right after her loss.
It felt like we were in a bubble while the rest of the world kept rushing through life.
We talked a lot, as together we worked through
some of the details of losing a parent. 
There were papers she needed to sign, decisions she had to make,
people to have conversations with.
And I,
I walked beside her as she
packed get the picture.

It was so lovely and precious. I loved every minute of it. It made me homesick.

My feeling homesick for my home town is just a shadow of how
I should long to be in the presence of My Savior. 
This world is not my home.
That is why I feel restless and unsettled.

2 Corinthians 5:1-9
For we know that if the earthly tent which is our house is torn down,
we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.
For indeed in this house we groan,
longing to be clothed with our dwelling from heaven;
inasmuch as we, having put it on, shall not be found naked.
For indeed while we are in this tent, we groan, being burdened, because we do not want to be unclothed, but to be clothed, in order that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. Now He who prepared us for this very purpose is God,
who gave to us the Spirit as a pledge.
Therefore, being always of good courage, and knowing that while we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord-- 
for we walk by faith, not by sight--
we are of good courage, I say,and prefer rather to be absent from the body and to be at home with the Lord.
Therefore also we have as our ambition, whether at home or absent,
to be pleasing Him.   

So there it is...
I, like Paul, groan, longing to be clothed with my dwelling from heaven.
That is what it really is, when I feel like I miss something I have lost or can not find.
That restless longing. I am not going to find it here on earth, no matter how much I try.
I may see glimpses of it, in a friendship, in corporate worship, in God's creation.
But just a glimpse

What a day that will be, when Jesus face I will see. I will be home, truly home.

I wonder if there are saguaro cactus there?


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