Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Melting (Down) on Memorial Day

It was a big weekend.  My boy turned 4.  My dad and step-mom visited from Tennessee.  It was a 4-day weekend.  And I was homeless…kinda.
On Friday morning, our air conditioner stopped working.  It was 78 degrees for the birthday party.  It’s been 80 degrees in the house the last few days.
We spent all of Saturday out and about to avoid our sauna of a home.  Sammy and I kinda-sorta “slept” there that evening; we pawned off the kids on family members.
We spent all of Sunday out and about to avoid our sauna of a home.  We all spent the night at my mother-in-law’s.
We spent all of Monday and Monday evening at my mom’s.
We may sleep at home tonight; we may not.
We hope our air conditioning will be fixed tomorrow.
And I don’t like any of this!  I don’t like living out of my car.  I don’t like eating out this much.
I am thankful for family who has hosted us during the day and overnight; that has saved us LOTS of money.
But I want to go home…and sleep in my 70-degree bedroom with the fan running, on my queen-size bed, with my pillow…and eat there…and let the kids play in a kid-safe, toy-filled space…and let the kids sleep in their beds…and bathe in my shower…and stay up after the kids go to bed instead of going to bed with them.
And I’m convicted by words I recently read:  All these people were living by faith…And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth…If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return.  Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one.  Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them. (Hebrews 11:13-16)
“These people” were Abel, Enoch, Noah, and Abraham.  And God is not ashamed of them because they have their sights on a different home, because they identify themselves as aliens and strangers on earth.
I don’t like feeling like an alien.  I don’t like being away from home—even when I’m 8 miles away at my mom’s house instead of mine.
I miss home.  I want to go home.  I’m going to pitch a fit or meltdown if I don’t get home soon.
But those God is not ashamed of don’t think about where they’ve left.  They’re living on faith, and they’re anxious to get to a heavenly home, not a white rancher on two acres with a new swing set in the backyard.

No comments:

Post a Comment