Homesick

Soon we are home and shall stand before him;

What matter then that we have suffered here?

Then he shall crown us while we adore him;

So death and all our pains will disappear.

CW 364 vs. 3

I've been kind of bitter about it. 

Wayne doesn't receive a call for 10 years then seemingly out of the blue he gets one to Edmonton that he ends up turning down. We resigned ourselves to assuming we will most likely be here for a LONG time mainly due to immigration hurdles that would drastically narrow down the field of possibilities. Some conversations even included the idea of staying here until he retires. Regardless, we were at peace with where we're at and counted our stability as a huge blessing that has allowed us many freedoms. 

Until.

6 months later and Wayne receives another call. This time it's to Texas and this time it's different. And the part that made me bitter was that it was messing up my Lent. 

I love Lent and not because I'm a glutton for punishment and am looking to give up a habit for 40 days that I probably should anyway. I get a lot out of taking a season to repent and reflect on my need for a Saviour. I gain a renewed appreciation of what Jesus accomplished for my salvation by reliving his hardships and anguish as he walked to the cross for me. I stand with centuries of believers that take the time every year to imagine what the disciples experienced, to hear the parables Jesus taught the people himself and the way that the passion unfolded. I stand with the Mary's and John at the foot of that horrible event that must have seemed so hopeless and scary at the time. I too await the answers yet to come.

And now this Lent of 2018 was screwed up! It hung over our heads and hearts. It kept us awake for weeks. I cried tears and Wayne made phone calls. It started to dawn on me that maybe we were no longer home. And while our family at our church would always be part of our family of believers,  maybe there was another church out there that was to be that too. 

I love this home that we live in. I've relished decorating it to my taste, expressing my personality in every corner. I've arranged family photos so that they surround us at every turn and remind us of where we come from and who our people are. I've built a home business that not only supplements our income but blesses me with people so that my extroverted side is happy happy happy while my introverted side is still cozy in my surroundings. I've schooled our children in these walls and fought hard battles of parenting along with hugs and laughter and love. We brought Zanna here to this home off the plane from China. I picked the perfect pink colour for her baby room - pink cadillac. I've gone all out for Christmas so that there is NO WHERE you can go in this house and not know that Jesus is coming as a baby in a manger.  Don't even get me started on Easter. 

That's just my house. 

Then there are the people in my life that are near and dear to me both at church and in other areas. People have come and gone in 16 years but the ones that have remained constant through thick and thin I need. No really. Some of these friends have even seen me hungry, hot, and in a crowd and they still like me! As I mentally scroll through the list of friends I have, it occurs to me that each is a gift to me that encourages me in some area of life whether homeschooling, church work, pastor's wife, adoption and parenting, or commiserating in some way. Now why on earth would I want to walk away from a tailor made support group that took me 16 years to assemble?! 

On Palm Sunday, Wayne accepted the call to Texas and announced it from the pulpit at the conclusion of service. And even though a person can't technically ruin Palm Sunday it kind of felt like we did. It was as if a cloud had descended over this group that had just finished shouting their hosannas. I was ready to throw my husband under the bus to give the impression that "I don't know what this guy is thinking. I'm just the innocent wife that has to do what he says"in an attempt to distance myself. But I didn't. I kept my eyes on the ground as much as possible and hugged those that wanted to hug. 

I already felt homesick and was looking for somewhere to be sick. 

And then I realized this is Lent too. It's feeling homesick. It's realizing that I've gotten way too comfortable making this place my be all and end all home. 

It's a struggle to find that balance between making your house a home, blooming where your planted, and when in Rome... with a yearning for an eternal communion with Christ where we'll sing with the angels and worship Him in perfection. We get a taste of this in our worship, hymns, liturgy, and sacraments. We ache for home. But this is not home. This home can lure us with it's comforts and pleasures. It can seem to fulfill all our needs. But it never will. This is not our real home. As we kneel at the communion rail and become one with Christ and with those at the table, we are reminded that there's something more and that this is but a taste of what's yet to come. We should be homesick for that eternal home that Christ bought entry for us with his own flesh and blood. We'll never feel homesick there! 

I'm very grateful the Lord has shown this to me. Lent has taken on a richer and deeper meaning that I didn't realize was possible. I look forward to celebrating Easter joy with my fellow church family as together we rejoice in Jesus' triumph over sin and death! I ache for the day that our joy will be complete and we stand together with the angels praising God!

Then I'll be home.