Homeward bound, I wish I was....

Simon and Garfunkle summed it up well. That longing of home that seems ingrained in us....

I have spent the last 11 years in a state of limbo, living away from the home I grew up in, getting to know new city after new city (ok, so only 3, being Christchurch, Perth and Lima), but each time involves a new attempt to make new friends, find a new church, work out that space where you fit in the jigsaw puzzle of people and houses and cars, and ultimately, find the best coffee in town (very hard to do in Lima).

I travel a lot and find myself in many places that could never be my home. During those times I long for my home, which can be defined as where my wife and my stuff are to be found. But when I return to that place I soon start to think about what has been our more permanent home, Perth. When I am in Perth I find myself seeking to return to my home and family in New Zealand. The desire of home for me is almost inexhaustible.

(Caveat time: I am not desperately missing home, crying in the fetal position every night, we love the place that God has placed us for this season in our life, God is so faithful, and we are seeing Him work miracles, we wouldn't miss that for the world!)

I was recently working in a very isolated region of the pampas in Patagonia, southern Argentina. In that far away place I started to sense a deep ache for my home and family, particularly for the relationship with my father, who is my hero. The ache was centered on the things I was missing out on by electing to be so far from my family, the fishing and camping trips with Dad, the talks about love and life, the realization that for so long I had wanted my Dad to be my friend and, in this stage of my life when the benefits of such a friendship could be so tangible, I’d transported myself so far away from him that any meaningful relationship was reduced to internet and telephone. Visits, while a fantastic experience, are akin to putting a sticky plaster on such an ache – after a week or two they fall off, and a sticky plaster actually does very little to stop an ache.

The Bible refers numerous times to the earth not being our home; one verse in Ecclesiastes in particular has caught my attention recently, 3:11 where it says that He has set eternity on the hearts of men. It’s a tough ask to pull our minds away from the daily pursuit of an earthly reality, but I am constantly reminded that earth is not our home (and I am thankful for that when I see the mess we’ve made of it). Maybe some people are really spiritual and maybe this comes naturally for them, but I need to be challenged to set my heart on eternity, I want to have an ache for my eternal home in the same way i thirst for my earthly home, and foster a relationship with my heavenly Father in the same way I yearn for my earthly Dad.

It’s good to be homesick.

Home, where my thoughts escaping,
Home, where the music’s playing,
Home, where my love lies waiting silently for me……