The first 10 years of my life were spent in Western Pennsylvania. I think we lived in 5 different houses between Charleroi, Leetsdale and Sewickly. Then we moved to California where my parents were eventually able to buy a home. I spent my teen years there. Since Bob and I married 51 years ago, we have moved 22 times. If my calculations are correct, I’ve lived in 30 different houses in my 71 years. Home to me has always been rather transient.
Maybe that’s why I’ve never been attached to any one place. It doesn’t really matter to me if it is a house or apartment, or whether we own or rent. I don’t get attached to the dwelling I’m living in. I’m blessed if there is a good air conditioner (I don’t do well in the heat) and hook-ups for my washer/dryer (I don’t like laundromats).
And, maybe that why’s that phrase in the song I wrote about yesterday, “When Mercy Found Me.” touched me so deeply. When mercy found me, like it found the author of the song, “my heart found a home.”
John 14:2-3: In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. [NIV]
My heart has found a permanent home in the love of my LORD. And the day is coming when I shall be with my Savior, in my Father’s House, with a room that is eternally mine. I won’t have to ever move again! Amen.
