Our Pickwick, always at his post…

...inspired by Dickens' “Pickwick Papers.”

This blog is dedicated mostly to the posting of essays, stories and musings, in order for me to improve my skills as a writer.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

They Say Home Is Where the Heart Is, But What If Your Heart's Not In One Place?

It’s been four years today since my family and I moved to Brazil. I didn’t think we would end up moving back to the States so soon; let alone Spokane, WA…but here we are and God is still faithful. Ergo I was inspired to write this dreadfully long post on the subject.
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“Home” is such a comforting word. For some, the word refers to a location. For others, it refers to a place where they believe their heart dwells. But the general image “home” presents us with is the picture of a place where we belong. However, I have come to understand the concept of “feeling at home” as something very different.

In the past eighteen years I’ve moved fourteen times. In the past sixteen months I have moved four times. Growing up, my family lived in various rentals, staying in some for two years, and others only months at a time. After living in California for nearly eight years, my parents were finally able to buy a home. It was an exciting experience for me. I began to allow myself the certain attachments I hadn’t given the other houses, after all, this house was ours. But after two short years God had another plan.

My parents decided to move to Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil to follow a life time dream of theirs to work on the mission field. My father lived in Brazil as a teenager and always dreamed of returning to continue working in the missionary field. I, however, was devastated at the thought of having to move again. I was frustrated with God.

Moving to Brazil was unlike any move I had ever experienced; this was not just a short trip with cardboard boxes and a moving van. This was a trip to the bottom of the world, with the painstaking process of labeling boxes in accordance to numbers and having to load our belongings into a large metal container that would be placed on a large ship. The next few weeks we prayed that nothing was lost or damaged in the process. I cannot begin to express how painful it was for me to say goodbye to my family and friends. I remember at the time I tried to put a good face on, but deep down I was heartbroken. Just as I was beginning to feel at home in California, I was moving again, and this time to a foreign place.

This foreign place, my new home, took me on a journey I never expected to have. A journey, of discovering who Christ really was in my life and who I was in Him. I started to realize my tendency to depend on myself rather than Him. One night I was reading through a passage in Exodus when the Lord speaks to Moses in the burning bush: “The LORD said to him, "Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the LORD? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.” I realized that I was questioning God because I felt that His plan for my life was ineloquent. I wasn’t trusting him for help to face my uncertainties. I repented of my unbelief and the Lord gave me a sense of peace. It soon felt very right to be in Brazil. I came to realize the value of our time in Brazil. God had us in Brazil for the purpose of helping those in need-a reason beyond my need for a “home” of my own. Soon my life was being shaped by God’s grace as He gave me a new perspective on life and the mission field.

After two years of living in Brazil my father suffered a great financial crisis because of the crashing housing markets in California and was unable to support our family any longer on the mission field. Although Rio Grande never truly felt like home it was odd returning to the States. I always dreamed about returning home but I was finally content to stay in Brazil. And yet we had to move all over again.

Our destination was uncertain as we faced the new challenge of coming back to the United States to a failing economy. I was afraid of wanting to unpack all of my boxes because I knew that if I had to move one more time, I wouldn’t be able to pack them up again. But a friend of mine told me that I should live today for that day; the day when our Savior returns. This got me to thinking and made me take a deeper look at how I was living my life and where I was placing my value.

My gaze is continually drawn to the uncertainties tomorrow brings. Doubt sinks in and makes it harder to trust God. But the Bible clearly states that I needn’t worry about tomorrow “for tomorrow will worry about itself.” I have no idea where I will be ten years from now, or even tomorrow. This world is a constant pattern of changing events and uncertainties. But I know that my Savior is never changing and that no matter where I am He will always be there for me. My mind has been so fixated on the future that I forgot about the now. So instead of worrying about where I am going to move next, or how many more times I will have to change addresses; I want to be grateful for each house God provides. I want to be grateful most of all for my family. I want to make the best of my relationships with my new friends.

The concept of feeling at home has come to mean something very different for me. It means being at peace with where God has me. I have heard it said that “home is where your heart is”, but what if your heart’s not in one place? For so long the idea of moving has shaken my faith because I struggle with the idea of letting go. I grow so attached to this world that I forget that this is not my true home. After so many years of struggling I finally realized that it is He who I need to seek; not friends, a time, or a place to be. Whatever paths God leads me on in the future, I am continually learning that if my heart is in Him, the next move may not be so difficult. And that my true home, in is Him.

“For I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.” Philippians 4:11