This morning I’m sitting on the porch, with coffee, and thinking about home. Which is a little ironic since I’m in my house. But house doesn’t equal home. And the worlds that we carry around with us are so much more than the green and blue rock we live on. Frederick Buechner said it this way, “You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you.” My world is the others that have been engraved in my mind and heart: my wife, my daughters, my siblings, my parents, my mentors, and some who were only on my path for a moment.
Lately, I had a time of healing prayer with a friend, where I was able to receive and listen to what God is saying through circumstance: past and present. I was reminded of a time that I experienced frequently in the mountains of Arizona. Lying on a picnic bench, staring up at the vast, crystal clear, constellation, and having the strong awareness that I was in the Lord’s presence; as I spoke to Him, and as He whispered His sovereignty into my heart. That’s home for me. And no matter how shaky today gets, I remember the truth that reverberated through my heart on those nights. That truth is still true. The Psalmist (46) referred to that reality:
God is our refuge and strength,
a helper who is always found
in times of trouble.
Therefore we will not be afraid,
though the earth trembles
and the mountains topple
into the depths of the seas,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with its turmoil. Selah