I have always loved to travel. As a young child, I was perfectly content on long car rides. I loved seeing new sights and watching the world change out the car windows. In my teenage years, I couldn’t wait for chances to leave home. When I graduated from high school I basically left home and never went back. I visited but never lived there again.
My Mom always told me that it was easy for me to go because I knew that I always had a place to come home to. She was right of course. It is easier to be gone when you know you have a home base. Truthfully, it’s one of the things I have struggled most with since losing both parents. Home as I knew it went with them. I have no “home” or relatives in my hometown. It’s a weird feeling.
I was thinking about this topic on the way home from our recent vacation. We decided to drive from our southern Ohio home to Cape Cod – it’s about a 14-hour drive give or take. We broke the trip into two days both directions to make it a little easier. We had a wonderful vacation and did all the things we most wanted to do. However, as we were driving home, I couldn’t help but think about just how glad I was to be going home.
Isn’t that strange? We spend so much time anticipating and looking forward to vacation but, for most of us at least, it’s a full week and then we’re excited to get back home. These days I just want to get back to my own bed. I enjoy parts of skipping out on my regular daily life – having a vacation from planning and cooking meals is my favorite thing. But I miss the normalcy of my daily routine. I miss what I’ve grown used to.
I still love to go places, especially if I’ve never been there before, but I get increasingly excited to come back. To come back to the life that works for me. To come back to the place where I can get my footing again. To come home. What a privilege it is to have a home and a life to come back to.
This parallels the times in my life when I’ve drifted away from God. I don’t mean turned my back on Him or stopped believing, but just that I grew comfortable in a current that gradually pulled me away. Regrettably, that has happened more than once. This is usually fueled by equal parts tiredness and selfishness. I get tired of treading the water and, honestly, get consumed with myself – what I want, what I don’t have, what I think I need, etc. It becomes all about me, and I begin to drift away.
It often takes time to notice because it happens slowly, but to me it feels like being lost. When I feel lost what I really want is to be home. It means finding a way to put the brakes on drifting away and reverse course. It means I must stop being selfish and focusing squarely on me. Selfishness is a recipe for disaster because I don’t know the things God knows. It never ends well when we leave the shelter God provides. The farther from Him we get, the more lost we become.
It brings to mind the book of Lamentations. The writer is lamenting how God’s people have drifted so far away. He’s grieving yet hopeful because he knows where home is. He knows it’s possible to get back. Lamentations 3:40-41 (NKJV) says, “Let us search out and examine our ways, and turn back to the Lord; Let us lift our hearts and hands to God in heaven.”
Friends, if you have found yourself drifting away or maybe feeling a little lost, turn back. David tells us in Psalm 16:11 that in God’s presence is fullness of joy. Back in Lamentations, chapter 3:25 says, “The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks Him.” The drifting stops when our soul seeks Him. When we seek Him, we find Him and the refuge He provides.
It’s good to be home.
