The pursuit of Home
October 1st, 2011 by Kristi Stephens
We are big “This Old House” fans at our house. As in, my 3 year old was building something with his little foam rubber blocks this week and told me he was Norm Abram and was building furniture! We watch faithfully together for an hour every Saturday morning without fail, and the TOH magazines are scattered throughout the house.
This month’s Letter from the Editor (which are usually hilarious, I should say), had a serious and personal tone. NP read it and brought it to me, suggesting that I write a response. Scott Omelianuk, editor of This Old House magazine, was wrestling with the very real fear we face of natural disasters and economic pressures that can threaten our most tangible sense of safety and security in this world: our homes. He ended his letter with the following question.
“How do you deal with the realization that having a home – keeping this sanctuary and refuge that you pour so much time and effort and love into – might not be your choice but Mother Nature’s?”
This is the “long version” of my response. I’m still mulling over how to cut it down and make it more understandable for those not starting from a Biblical foundation. I think his question is a good one for us to ponder and think of our own orientation to and pursuit of “home.” So, blog friends, here are my thoughts for you on the topic of home.
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As a follower of Jesus Christ, I believe our quest for the safety of home has roots planted deeply in Eden.
The first man and woman lived in a perfect environment tailor made for them by God Himself. The Garden of Eden was their custom designed dwelling. It must have been a glorious place to live – but more than a physical space, home was defined by God’s presence there with them.
They were created to live and walk in unbroken communion with God.
We all instinctively know that home is more than the house we live in. Home is relationship. Security. Communion. Being truly known, seen, loved for who we really are.
When the tranquility of Eden was broken by humanity’s choice to rebel against God’s authority, home, real home, was lost. Man and woman had to leave the physical bounds of Eden, but they lost more than their material dwelling. They lost relationship with God. They left together, but with a relationship tainted by selfishness, blame, and shame. They journeyed from Eden and built new dwellings in new places, but home was never fully regained. I wonder if they ever wandered back to Eden, trying to glimpse the safe haven of this dwelling that had been lost to them, longing to experience real home once again.
Because of their rebellion, the earth itself groaned in brokenness. Weeds grew up and choked the gardens they planted. The animal kingdom rebelled against them and animals, now often wild and destructive, invaded their safe havens. Eventually because of the extreme wickedness on earth, God caused a great flood to sweep away everyone and everything on the earth. Surely as Noah and his family huddled anxiously on an ark, bobbing like a cork on a water-covered world, they longed for home. They longed for all to be set right.
The Bible is filled with accounts of those who wander, without what we might consider a true home. Abraham was called by God to follow Him – to enjoy a unique security, seen only with eyes of faith, defined not by geography or stone walls but by God’s presence with Him. Joseph found himself sold into slavery, falsely accused and sent to prison, waiting for years for God’s future plans for him to unfold – but the Bible assures us time and time again that God was with Him. Years later God would take an entire nation of people and lead them through the wilderness, feeding them with bread from heaven and quenching their thirst with water miraculously springing from rocks, vividly illustrating to them that the security of home is found not in a physical location but in His presence alone.
As God prepares His people to enter the promised land, where they would live in houses and plant crops and draw water from wells once again, He warned them: do not forget. Why?
It is enticing to trust in walls and doors. We long to find a piece of land and call it our own – to rest in a feeling of security and autonomy and self-sufficiency. We are deceived by an illusion of home, longing for a house rather than the home of God’s presence and provision.
Centuries later, Jesus, God in flesh, walked the earth without a home to call His own. He urgently calls us to realize that real treasure is found where moths do not destroy, thieves do not break in and steal, natural disasters do not threaten. The writer of Hebrews reminds us also – this world is not our home, we are from a different country, a heavenly one. This is only a temporary dwelling. We might have a house, but we don’t have home without God.
God’s story throughout Scripture urges us: don’t settle for the illusion of home, rather than longing for the real thing.
Earthquakes shake the very ground beneath our feet. Waters rise and wash away our memories. Fires burn unquenched. Trusting in a house to give us home is fleeting, anxiety-ridden, and destined to bring despair.
As Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Jesus, and the persecuted saints of the early church understood – home is not a physical place. Home is where He is. We are most human, most how we were meant to be, when in communion with God. We are only whole, known, loved, secure, in His presence alone.
In Eden, home was a dwelling place because God dwelt in their midst. One day, we will find our home with Him once again.
And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.”
Revelation 21:3
Humanity’s search for the security of home only finds rest in God Himself. Finding our home in Him is the only way we free ourselves from the endless anxiety of protecting the fragile walls we build and adorn on a shifting and broken earth. There are countless ways I could lose my home to financial ruin or natural disaster or criminal activity – but real home is never threatened.
In the words of David, a man wandering and homeless, hiding in caves as he fled for his life:
“…in You my soul takes refuge. I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings until the disaster has passed.”
-Psalm 37:1
So, what would you say? How might you answer Mr. Omelianuk question?

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