I know I've said before that I've always sought a place to call home for the rest of my life. I've been such a vagabond, all my life long. It would be good to have deep roots in a place. Instead, I am moving from a temporary home to another temporary home: a parsonage. It is surrounded by beautiful Chinese Elms and it's large enough to serve our needs and then some. Now, don't hear me wrong: We do not anticipate leaving Dulce, NM anytime soon! We're expecting to live in this parsonage for 10-15 years. But it will not belong to us. And that's okay.
I've really come to a new understanding of home lately. Home isn't the house in which I live. Home isn't the house or the town in which I grew up. Home is with God. Home is that state in which I am restful in the knowledge that God provides for my every need, every step of the way. (Matthew 6:25-34) And truly, home is that place where Jesus sits at the right-hand of God, where every tear is wiped from every eye, where death has no foothold. (Revelation 21:4) So for now, I will let my roots grow deep into the Word of God, and I will rejoice in the work He is doing in me to prepare me for my eternal home.
Then there will be no more moving for me. I will be home at long last.