Money makes the rules we have to live by;
A home is just a place to send the bills…”
“My heart can sing when I pause to remember
A heartache here is but a stepping stone
Along a path that’s winding always upward
This troubled world is not my final home.”
Home? What is it? Is it a particular place, or the thought in a person’s mind? Is it just a place to send the bills, or is it more than that?
Sure, much of what a home is has to do with perspective. Men of the frontier, men of the west might say, “Home is where I put my hat”. And there would be truth to that, for to them home was not a particular abode. I do think that women need a place–a home–despite the ramblings of those “pink hat” folk out there.
However, there is a danger of permanency. Some people don’t like to move. Some get settled in one spot and say this is my home and I’ll not leave. The reason I say it is a danger is that this world is not our home. Christians should have the attitude that I’ll be here a little while, I’ll make the best of the place where I’m at, but it is not my home; at least not my final home.
It is nice to come home. When a man has been on the job all day, it is nice to come home, but is it a place? There is an old saying, “Home is where the heart is,” and I think there is much truth there. In this temporal world, where is your heart? I’ll ask again, where is your heart? It is not wrong to think of home being family–wife and kids. Our heart should be with them and it should be a joy to come home to them. Hmmm, but what if the wife is not home? What if she is out working? Where then is the heart? Where then does the affection go?
One more thought, and again I’ll ask, where is your heart? Do you ever think of your heavenly home and long for it? Perhaps we get home confused with “stuff”. We think of a nice house and all that is in it as our home. That also is dangerous thinking. Our treasures, our “stuff” is to be laid up in heaven. Say, that is also to be our home; our home for eternity. “This world is not my home, I’m just a-passin’ through…and I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.”
Maybe it is just me getting older that I think a little differently about home. Nope, I’ve always had these sort of views. But getting older does present a different perspective. Guess, since I’ve went on about home/houses I should close with some more words by Stuart Hamblen.
“This old house is getting shaky, This old house is getting old.
This old house lets in the rain and This old house lets in the cold.
On my knees I’m getting chilly, But I feel no fear or pain.
Cause I see an angel peeking through, A broken window pane.
Ain’t gonna need this house no longer, Ain’t gonna need this house no more.
Ain’t got time to fix the shingles, Ain’t got time to fix the floor.
Ain’t got time to oil the hinges, Nor to mend the window pane.
Ain’t gonna need this house no longer, I’m getting ready to meet the saints.”