No Place Like Home

As Dorothy clicks her ruby slippers, closes her eyes and says, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home," my heart whispers that same sentiment.

As a child, Dorothy and her yellow-brick-road adventure played in my mind as brightly as the technicolor that splashed over Oz. In my childhood, home was a stable, dependable place. It seemed permanent with roots dug deep. It's no wonder that the first tug on those deeply planted roots was the toughest. God not only tugged, He uprooted my little family and moved us to a sandy place where my roots couldn't grab on so tightly.

Yet, He called and He caused us to bloom where He planted us. Bloom indeed. There our family grew, ministry grew and budding friendships blossomed in the golden sun. Just when I thought my roots could spread, He tugged again.

This time His transplanting was swift and much more painful. And again, He called us to bloom. He grew our family, a new ministry and even budding friendships. I know God is in control and I don't doubt He moved us for His glory, but at times I'm still looking for the slippers...

While there's a part of my heart that longs to stay in the same place, surrounded by generations of family and friends, I'm learning to plant my roots deep in soil I can't see. I'm discovering that my longing for home isn't a longing for any place on this earth. That unsettled, homeless feeling in my heart is the way it's supposed to be. 1 Peter 2:11 reminds us we are "strangers and pilgrims" on this earth. Ecclesiastes 3:11 tells us God has placed "eternity in our hearts". Psalm 84:5 says, "Blessed are those whose strength is in You, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage." Although God commands contentment in whatever state we may be, He doesn't call us to be home in any place but Heaven.

My home is not found by skipping down a yellow brick road to an Emerald city where 3 clicks of my ruby slippers will magically transport me. It's found in following the narrow path made of dust mixed with blood, leading to a Roman cross where 3 nails were driven into divine flesh and my eternal Home was secured by the death of Jesus.

Each day on this earth is an opportunity to point the way Home to travelers tempted by the glitz of a fairy tale city. I always cried when Dorothy woke to realize Oz had only been a dream. I don't know why. Maybe it was because she had to go through so much to finally believe the truth of her words. Dorothy's heartfelt declaration to those surrounding her is the Truth we should all declare to those around us. They need to know and believe there really is no place like Home. I can't wait to see God's children bloom there.