This Is Not My Home

I should be asleep, but the to-do task ninjas have been running rampant in my brain taking random and frequent shots at my sleep center so.... I'm awake. I thought if I could get one of the 'lappers' off the track that is my constant thought process, perhaps I would catch a couple more winks than usual.

If you have ever placed either of your feet in a church then you are probably familiar with the phrase "this is not my home". I have had comprehension of this concept since I was a young child.

The meaning, obviously, is that earth is not my true place to be, merely a stop to do God's work, experience the joys that are human life, gain wisdom and perspective, invest in others, and then, in the assurance of Christ, on to heaven a.k.a. home.

While I have understood and gleaned joy from this truth for many years I have never had as deep an understanding of it as I do now.

Marc has been gone for roughly 5 1/2 months now. We (the boys and I) have been graciously accepted and welcomed into his parents' house and my parents' house. We have every amenity necessary and then some. We are warm, fed, comfortable, happy and (truth be told) a little spoiled with so many wonderful people looking after us!

But this is not my home.

Desmond was able to articulate in words what I had known in my heart since we started this transition period: "Mom, do you know we don't have a home? We have Gramps' house and Grandpa's house, but those are not our home."

My home is with Marc. Desmond's home is with his Dad. This transition time, while warm, inviting, content, full, and enjoyable is merely that - a transition - we will go onto something else, something better. Our boys now count down the days to our "soldier home" (less than 15!).

And yet it is distinctly bittersweet. I am anxious to go but not anxious to leave. I have family here, friends here, a way of life here, history here ... but I tell you this: the promise of our family being whole again is enough to make me drop it all in a heart beat in order to "go home".  I love Marc so much that I would give it all just to be with him.

So, too, my life in this world. I am anxious to go but not anxious to leave. I have family here, friends here, Marc here, children here ... the bittersweetness overwhelms me ... would I really drop it all in a heartbeat to go home? My faith says yes! My duties (mom, wife, friend) says there is still much to do!

This concept has challenged me. In the end, it is my children that make me hesitant. So powerful a tie we have to nurture and keep safe the miracles that God blessed us with! I know that if I hopped the Heaven Express tomorrow Marc, my family/friends (and my cat) would eventually be fine. I would be missed (I hope!) but they would find a way of life again. My children, on the other hand, would have lost their mother. Something irreplaceable. This is what leads me to pray for longer life every day. To be allowed to complete the task that God set before me in rearing the children he bestowed to me and Marc.

I don't think I would be able to one day just choose to leave my kids and husband in exchange for an early ticket to heaven. I don't think God would want me to. He has specifically designated certain tasks to me that will keep me on this earth until complete. I also know that God cares more about my children and their outcome than I ever could. There is no sin in loving life and those in it, until we we love it/them more than we love our Maker (there is the fundamental challenge of this concept).

My conclusion? I trust that when Christ does show His face to end my time here on earth (when my tasks are complete) His presence will be overwhelming and I will know, in that presence, no lack of trust for what I leave behind so I will gladly go home.

Till then I will be ecstatic making my earthly home with a man whom I adore and respect more than any other and two bundles of unpredictable, easily excitable, always noisy, unprecedented, joy.

And I'll keep feeding the cat.