Home

Home is a slippery term. I'm nearly obsessed with it now.

I have a place I was born, a place I was raised, a place I raised my children, and the place I live now.
My parents don't live in any of those places.
They aren't even in the same place.
Where's home?

Do we choose our home?
I could be described as a 'home-maker', but the home I'm making is rented, and we won't live here more than 3 years (4 more months, if John has his way).

We still own property in West Lafayette. Does owning property make a place stay home? It's lived in by someone else. Is it their home?


The people of God were obsessed with home too. Their time of homelessness in the desert and in captivity were regarded as bad and difficult times, times when they were being formed or punished.

Yet as people of God we are called to homelessness. We are called to be disciples following Jesus, to be Marys rather than Marthas. We are called to foresake family, to wander the desert like John and travel like Paul.
That's not something I feel capable of doing. My family counts on my presence, my stability. They want me Martha-ing away day after day. They count on it.

I don't know what to do with the seeming fact that God doesn't leave a lot of room for home. In God's scheme, home-making is a lesser calling. But it seems that it's my calling. Is that servant-hood, or idolotry?