Home

Every now and then I hear someone use the phrase “Were you born in a barn!?”  And I have to giggle, because when I hear it I always think, no, but I was raised in one.  From the time I can remember I loved to tag along with my dad to the barn.  I loved to help do chores and as I grew I got myself to the barn to do chores or rinse show heifers early on summer mornings before anyone else was even up.  Some of those barns I was raised in were on my own farm, but I also did a lot of “growing up” in the cattle barn of the Boone Co Fairgrounds and Indiana State Fairgrounds.  The barn at the Orange County Fairgrounds had a corner that was “home” to the three of us girls for nearly 20 years.  And while the stay was short, a lot of “raising” happened in barns in Denver, CO, Milwaukee, WI, Tulsa, OK, Des Moines, IA, Louisville, KY, Kansas City, and many other local fairgrounds along the way.   For this girl, being in the barn felt like home.

Home… there’s just something about the very word that makes you feel all mushy inside.  The thought of going home makes you feel safe, and loved, and at peace.  Over the years I have learned something about the word home… it doesn’t have to be the place where I lay my head at night, HOME is a place that holds a piece of my heart.

Last weekend I spent some time going “home” to two of my favorite places, and it felt so great to release that sigh from deep within… home…  On Saturday, (a) and I had the chance to spend a few hours at the State Fairgrounds for a large cattle show that my family has been involved with for 20 years.  Walking in to that barn the feeling hit me… home.  SO many memories have been made for me in that barn- tears of joy and defeat have been shed there, laughter and sweat have been poured out, my sisters became my friends and my friends became like siblings.  That barn has seen me in some of my greatest moments of victory, and most embarrassing moments of humility, and I have seen it completely empty and quiet, and I have seen it packed to the gills with people and cattle and equipment.  But no matter what, after all these years and numerous events, it feels like home.  Walking in after what had been a hectic week, I felt my shoulders release some stress, my heart did a little pitter-patter, and that comfortable deep breath feeling of HOME filled my body. 

Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evenings (A) and I had the privilege to attend the Christmas fundraising dinners at Hilltop Christian Camp.  Hilltop has been our camp home for the last 10 years.  We have made friends there who will be life-long ministry partners, and we have worked side by side with people who meant the world to us.  Camp is the place where (A) and I have spent countless hours working as a ministry TEAM at our best, and we have learned how to be a better team together when we were NOT our best there.  We have poured our hearts for Jesus into more children/teens there than we will ever remember.  We have watched many of those campers grow into amazing Christian adults, and we have watched some of them disappoint us.  We have laughed there, and cried there, made hilarious memories and heart-warming ones, sweated our lights out in stifling heat, and chattered our teeth in bitter cold.   We have watched God move in powerful ways in the lives of others and in our own.  We have showed up there on moments of nothing but faith (especially the year we came in to set up a week of camp on faith that running water would be restored after a weekend without due to storms- and within hours of arrival that is exactly what happened!), and other times we have felt so prepared we were just giddy with excitement.  If I tried to tell you every good memory we have of camp I would spend days, and if I told you every way we saw God work in our lives there I would take years.  No matter what event we pull in that driveway for- I get that feeling…. my shoulders relax, I take a deep breath, my heart pitter-patters… I’m HOME. 

Going, home to those places has been a little harder for me lately though, because due to the uncertain nature of our family’s future plans, I don’t know how much longer geography will allow me to frequent those “homes” in my life (or even the house my family has made our home).  Pulling away from camp all three nights brought tears to my eyes as I thought, how often will I get to come “home.”  Leaving the fairgrounds (even after a flat tire incident) I wondered, how long will this place be just an hour or two drive away?  I have no answers to those questions, but God reminded me of this- home is not just a physical place, it is the people you share it with, and the way HE moves in your life there. 

God also reminded me “For this world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come.” Hebrews 13:14 (NLT).  It was a reminder that uncertainty here is temporary, because my true “homing beacon” is set on Heaven.  The way I use my home on Earth to minister to others matters, because it is preparing me for the home yet to come.  And if the day comes as we move forward, that I feel scared or unsure because I don’t feel at home- that is only temporary too- because none of these “homes” here on Earth will last me forever.   While I am here, I will make new homes as I share them with people I love and watch Him move in our lives- and I will store up my treasures for a permanent home He is preparing for me someday.  Wow- what a feeling that will be! Shoulders relax, deep breath of Heaven sigh, pitter patter in my heart… HOME.