Home

Homing pigeons, home for the holidays, home sweet home, Home Depot, nursing home, homestead, mobile home, homeless, homeslice, homework, home run, homing device. [bonus points if you think of any good ones I missed.]

Home [hōm]: The place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.

“A place where something flourishes, is most typically found, or from which it originates.”

(Oxford Dictionary)

I’m loving being home–the first kind, where most of my family lives.  It was a long (but good) semester, and it’s going to be a long (but good) summer traveling on a singing team with my college.  I have three weeks to be at my first home.  Two of them are over–a week from right now, I’ll be gone again.  I’m so grateful for these days–time with precious siblings, talks with Mom and Dad, being at my home church again, baking and washing dishes and ironing and doing homey things.  Being at this home is restorative, relaxing, and enjoyable.  These are the people I belong to and with.

However, even in this time I’ve been home, I’ve been discovering the second kind of home more and more.  The place I flourish.  It, too, is a place of belonging.  A place of restoration.  It involves being with the people–rather, person–whom I belong to.  Same quality time, same deep conversations.  But it’s my portable home.  He’s my portable home.

Home is where I truly belong–my real home, my lasting home, is heaven.  But home is also whom I truly belong with.  Every day I am more and more aware of how much I belong to and with Jesus.  His presence completes my need for belonging; conversation with him restores me.  I love him.

It’s simple logic, really:

Jesus is the one I really belong with.

Where the one I belong with is is home to me.

Jesus is everywhere–he never leaves me.

I have home everywhere. 

So yeah, I’m traveling this summer.  Every night I’ll have a new home.  The bus will be home on the road.  I’ll be away from home–but not really.  The peace and restoration that comes from being home can be mine every day, because Jesus is mine every day.  I can’t wait until he takes me to my true home.  And until then, I’ll love every day of being home with him–wherever that may be.

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Work

Work (wurk)

noun
1. exertion or effort directed to produce or accomplish something; labor; toil.
2. productive or operative activity. 
5. something on which exertion or labor is expended; a task or undertaking. 
7. the result of exertion, labor, or activity; a deed or performance.
[Credits to dictionary.reference.com, and yes, I did just skip 3, 4, and 6. They were typical employment-ish definitions–one aspect of work, but not the one I wanted to talk about. You can look them up if you really want to know.]

It’s effort.  It’s activity.  It’s an undertaking.  It’s results.

Why do we work?  Why do we engage in productive activity?
I had a thought on work the other day.  I was thinking about God’s work in me, and then just God’s work in general.  His work seems to be twofold–creative work (example: creation), and transforming/restoring work (example: ME).  He both made all things, and then when sin destroyed, rather, twisted, his work, he worked (and still does work) to restore it by transforming it to what it should be.
So what about my work, whatever it be?  My daily activities?  What should be the focus of them?  I certainly can’s create from nothing.  I’m not God.  But, with his help, we can all be involved in the works of transforming and restoring–changing the universe one mess, one hungry tummy, one broken cupboard, one broken heart at a time.
It’s kind of a cool–

work has purpose, meaning, and an element of God-likeness.

[And by the way, I know I’m missing something, because Adam and Eve worked in the garden before sin, and I’ve always been under the impression that we’ll work in heaven, after sin.  If you have thoughts to hone and develop my infant theology of work, I’d be very interested to hear them. ]

Space

Space   \ˈspās\

1. A continuous area or expanse that is free, available, or unoccupied.

2. The dimensions of height, depth, and width within which all things exist and move.

[Credit to google–except for the Oxford Commas.  I added those. If you don’t know what the Oxford Comma is, you should.  Read about it at Grammarly.]

Anyhow.  I was driving across Iowa last weekend to visit a friend, and I was just pondering space; distance; dimensions.  It took a long time to drive to my friend’s house, and wouldn’t it be nice if space wasn’t a barrier to our relationship?  Because space (dimensions within which all matter resides) exist, you either have to face separation or a journey.

And here’s why: relationships are based upon communication between two (or more) people.  Communication necessitates being physically with the other person or, if apart, somehow fooling the dimension system via the internet, phone lines, or the good ol’ USPS.  However it works, though, someone or something is bridging the gap between people who cannot be together but wish to be.  Something has to give.  Something has to bridge.  Something has to bring together these two parties which have been separated, in this case, by dimension.

So as I was driving across Iowa, mile after flat, open mile, I wondered: Why did God make space, matter?  After all, He is not matter–He doesn’t take up space.  Just read Psalm 139.  He’s everywhere!  He’s not bound by the laws He bestowed upon His creation.  But why did He create the universe that way–bound and limited by space?

Honestly, I’m still pondering that one, because He said at the end of creation, “It is very good!”  How can distance and separation be good?

Maybe He wanted a physical picture of the spiritual reality.  Just like that wide expanse that has to be spanned–either by me in my car, skype, a phone call, or a letter–for me to reach my friend, something had to reach between me.  And God.

There was a separation, a barrier for our communication.  And no communication, no relationship.  It was a distance that made.  Right from the start, God was holy [set apart–distanced] from sin [anything that doesn’t conform to His law or character].  I sinned.  I broke His law and His heart, and with every act against Him, the infinite distance that already hung between us only grew greater by my running away from Him, just like Adam and Eve ran away and hid from God in the Garden of Eden [you can read their story in Genesis chapter 3, but you should probably start in chapter 1].

There had to be a messenger.  A phone line, a postal worker, an internet connection between us.  Are you kidding me?  I’m running away from Him.  Even if I wanted to get to Him, which I didn’t, I couldn’t cross that infinite gap with my short little legs, because it’s not even a physical distance–it’s a spiritual one.

So God sent a messenger to me.

Jesus.  God’s Son.  He left His infinite world and entered my limited one by becoming a man.  Unlike me, though, He never sinned, so He still had access to God’s realm.  He removed the barrier between us by removing my sin.  Then He came to find me, to catch me on that lifelong sprint I was taking in the opposite direction.  And I think we both know how the trip He took ended.  He found me.

Anyway, that’s one of my ponderings on space, but God already had some, and they’re a lot better–and more concise 😉 — than mine.  I hope you’ll read His and take some time to think about them.

James 4:8 DRAW NEAR to God, and He will DRAW NEAR to you.  Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.

Psalm 103:12  As far as the EAST is from the WEST, so far has He removed His transgressions from us.

Romans 8:38-39  For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor HEIGHT, nor DEPTH, nor any other created thing, shall be able to SEPARATE us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus.

Matthew 1:23 And they will call Him [Jesus] Immanuel, which is translated, GOD WITH US.