Longing To Be Home

In the midst of this trial, where I feel so displaced, where I witness all that is precious to me rest on the brink of destruction, where I feel the sting of rejection, the hollow pang of betrayal and live fully immersed in a constant threat of danger – oh how I long to be home .

Home.

That place where all is right and danger does not thrive nor exist. It is where peace lives in the rightness of things being where they are supposed to be, and the unquestionable help that is ever present and and always at hand.

Where does one call home when the primary source of security has seemingly been laid to waste? Hoping to place my finger on the hollow within me that I now felt, I revisited childhood, having no other point of reference to draw from. It wasn't long before I happened upon a scene in my head of a boy upstairs, in his room, earnestly reading the Bible and praying.

As far back as I can remember, I have sought God out in the quiet, lofty places of my mind. In light of that revelation, it seemed fitting to call Him the "God of my youth" and in so doing, it illuminated how He has been with me my whole life.

He’s been through it all with me, walked every step, seen every moment, celebrated every victory, comforted every defeat, given every gift- loving me the same all the while.

It was while contemplating this with Him, that He mercifully dipped His finger into the pool of understanding in my mind, coalescing a thought into truth:

He is my home.

I long for Him.

And so, as I conjured up these images of precious innocence now lost, in places now gone and moments on the verge of 'forgotten'- my desperate groping about hopelessly unable to find any purchase- my grip finally laid claim to What Was, What Is, and Always Will Be: Christ my Savior, my Good Shepherd and Overseer of my soul.

He was there with me on my bed,

He was there with me when I learned to draw,

when I fell in love with art,

when I left for college,

when I fell in love with my wife,

when I got married,

when I became a dad.

He sat at every meal,

heard every laugh,

saw every goofy dance,

every hug,

every kiss,

and He is here now.

He hears every prayer, catches every tear, answers every cry with “I am willing.“

While I watch my world slowly ignite- particles of what was filling the air – in the midst of this, where I now stand, I am home. I am always home. The Lord, my God is with me, whithersoever I go. He will never leave me or forsake me, even until the end of the age.