By Victor Morris – Guest Blogger and Friend of IWM
“But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ”
(Phil. 3:20)
There’s an old saying: There’s no place like home. That phrase has been sung about, poems have been
written about it, many a sampler hangs on the walls of people’s houses with that saying on it. In fact, it
has been used so much it has become a cliché. But for all that, it still rings true. There’s no place like
home! The very word “home” can conjure up cherished images, remembered sounds, familiar smells,
memories that make us who we are as people. For me, I think of waking up to the smell of bacon frying,
or biscuits baking in the oven, or the sound of eggs sizzling in a cast iron frying pan, or one of most the
most pleasant sights in the world—homemade sausage gravy simmering on the stove.
Home is the feel of clean sheets on your bed, with your very own pillow, and on a wintry day snuggling
under the quilt your grandmother made you. It is sitting with loved ones watching that favorite movie that
everyone has seen a hundred times. It is playing that game that has become a family tradition, that
everyone feels compelled to play, even though you know someone is going to cheat a little in an effort to
win the silly thing, and someone else is going to get upset and almost ruin everything. But it’s what you
do when you’re home. Home is knowing that when you are hurting and confused and afraid that there is
at least one place on earth where you can go and be accepted, warmly received, and loved on. It is the
place where you are “made over” when you know you don’t deserve it, and hugged when you really,
really need it.
Yes, there no place like home. I love the very word “home.” To me there is no place like home. Indeed,
one of the great ironies of my life is that I work for a missions agency, Advancing Native Missions, but I
don’t like to travel. I am a true homebody. I stay away from home only by the utmost necessity. I
remember years ago when I traveled as an evangelist. Sometimes I would be called upon to the fill the
pulpit of a church for just one Sunday—maybe the pastor was on vacation, or had some family
emergency. So I would be there for that one day. And after the Sunday evening service was over, we
would head home. We might be several hours away from where we lived. And it was late. Prudence
would seem to demand that to stay the night in the town where I had been preaching was truly what was
called for. But I wanted to go home. I wanted to be in my bed, under my comforter, with my head on my
pillow. So we would drive through the late hours of the night, sometimes into the small hours of the
morning, just to be home. I can remember this one hill on the way home. At the time we were living in
King William County, to the east of Richmond, VA and pretty far out in the country. In fact, we rented a
house on a dairy farm. This one hill was about 15 or 20 minutes from our house. When you crested the
hill, there was this floodplain for the Pamunkey River that stretched out before you. You came down a
steep incline, and then a long straight road to the river. I can recall many times coming over that hill, and
seeing that beautiful vista, and knowing—I am almost home. It would be hard not to drive over the speed
limit. I was in a hurry to get home. My foot got heavy with anticipation. And sometimes I would be so
sleepy that I could hardly keep my eyes open. The road would get bleary. But I would anxiously press
on. I was almost home.
Do you have a place like that? You have been away from home, and when you see that tree or that fence
or that road sign or that particular house, you know—you are almost home. Your heart races. You
become a little excited. Home!
Now you may be wondering, why all this sentimental nostalgia about home? Because there is just
something about home. There is something in the very concept that we long for. And no matter how
wonderful a home we love and cherish on this earth, how much we love our earthly home, I think there isalso within us a longing for something even better. We want something more beautiful, more pleasant,
more inviting, more… well, homey.
We long for our true home—a place where there is completely unfeigned love, total acceptance of who
we are. Don’t we all long for a place where there is warmth and kindness and affection that is, well…
PERFECT. And no matter how good home is here, we sense—deep down in the very marrow of our
bones and the depths of our hearts—that there is still a better place. There has to be, don’t you think?
Yet, you would think that with all the heartache and tragedy and hurt of this world that we would have
come to accept the cold, hard reality of this life. It seems obvious. You would think that we should know
that there is nothing better than what we experience here in this world. Yet… Why is it that we are not
satisfied here? Why is it we long for a better world? I can tell you. It is simple. You see, we were not
made for this world. We long for something better because we were made for another place. The famous
Christian writer C. S. Lewis once said, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can
satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” I believe this is the reason
that we think so irrationally about home. It is why we so tenaciously hold on to the desire for the perfect
family. The perfect job. The perfect friendship. Indeed, the perfect life! It is because we long for our
true home.
Child of God, let me encourage you. Don’t ever lose that desire for the perfect home. It is there. It is
real. You were made to dwell there forever—yes, for all eternity. And today, in the midst of all the
challenges and troubles of this present life, let this thought, this determined desire, keep you strong, keepyou going. Be encouraged in the journey. You have crested the hill, and are in sight of your destination.
You are on your way home.
