Have you ever seen pictures of Tuaregs or other nomads going from place to place with a string of camels? Their tent and its supports, bedding, rugs, cooking pots, pet dogs are all tied to the back of their camels.
Well, for five weeks now, our car has been our camel. Everything we might need has been stuffed into the trunk, back seats, and even under the front seats. Bedding. Foodstuffs. Clothing to adjust to both warm and cool weather. Important documents. Books to read. Our computer. Too much stuff.
We’re homeless. Okay that’s not quite accurate. We’re between homes; waiting to get into our little condo. Meanwhile, we’ve been traveling from place to place, staying a week here, five days there, two days another place. In rented locations we had to provide our own bedding and cooking paraphernalia. We’ve been to some wonderful spots. It’s been great, yet quite stressful.
Friends and family have been phenomenal. The opportunity to visit different places has also been great. But after four or five moves and sleeping in different beds, we’re tired of the gypsy life. How do they do it? How do nomads handle having no fixed address? Where do they get their mail? What address do they put on their camel-driving license? What if they can’t get email or log into Facebook?
When I was young; much, much younger, I thought wandering all over God’s creation would be cool. But now, I long to settle down, to have a fixed address, to be able to ease into my favourite recliner. I blush to admit I can almost empathize with the wandering, grumbling Israelites. I guess I’m grumbling a bit and after only six weeks. Yeesh. As to Syrian refugees. I can’t even begin to imagine their trauma.
I think there is something in us that yearns for stability. A place to put down roots. A home. A roof over our heads. A connection to stable family and friends. A country to call home. A citizenship.
Fortunately, one constant reality during our frequent change of location has been our connection to the changeless God. “I am the Lord, I change not” Malachi Of course, we know that, unless the lawyers abscond with our money, we have place that will be ours very soon. But more important, we have an eternal home that is not subject to taxes, the whim of landlords, nor the wear and tear of use and weather. “In my Father’s house are many mansions if it were not so I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you that where I am you may be also” (John 14:1,2).
Spiritually, we are strangers and pilgrims on a journey to our heavenly home. But! No real estate transaction can secure this glorious home. Our sins estranged us from God, our heavenly home-builder. Someone must mediate between us and God, whose gracious laws we have thwarted. Ah, there is a mediator—only one, Jesus Christ who has for us a hearing with the Builder. How did he do that? He bore our sins in his own body on the cross. He rose from the dead and who has gone on ahead to mediate our forgiveness from God and prepare a heavenly home for us.
How do we inherit this home? No money changes hands. No lawyer is involved. No commission must be paid. We receive this home freely. But first, a transaction must take place between us and God. We must from the depths of our hearts cry; “Lord, we believe in your Son, Jesus Christ. We confess our sins. We trust in his sacrifice on our behalf. We believe in the salvation He offers. Come into our hearts. Be Lord of our life!”
Are you sure of a heavenly home?