Pick at my brain a little, would ya?

I’ve been at a conference for the past couple of days.  Conferences are generally good for many things, but one aspect that I have always appreciated about weekends like this is watching people come together to worship the only One who is worthy of adoration.  Christ is supremely valuable, and I have been realizing this more and more every day.  I’m almost at a loss for words right now.  I don’t really know how to explain the overwhelming joy that the Lord has been giving me lately.  To know that I am His is beyond describable.  Last night, we were singing a song that says, “Lord, I believe in You.  Lord, I belong to You.”  I stopped singing and let that sink in for a little while.

You see, so often, I feel bound to so many things in this world.  I feel as though I have to have the approval of my parents in my aspirations, which so far has proven to be a failure since they do not believe in or understand the God I’m so passionate about living my life for.  Galatians 1:10 is constantly ringing in my brain because I am so concerned with not offending my friends rather than addressing issues that I know I am called to speak up about.  Obedience in that, so far, has usually resulted in making things awkward with certain people, so naturally I do not like it.  But, God is not concerned with whether or not we feel good about things.  He’s concerned with community and truly loving people by urging them to follow the Lord.  And I also feel bound to the people I love at times.  There are a handful of people here in Houston that I never want to leave.  I want to be in community with them forever (and I will be if you think about it!), and I’m selfish in not wanting to go into the world for lack of seeing them all of the time.

The list of things I feel bound to could go on forever.  But I am learning to let go of those things and look to Jesus.  He is the only One worthy of my affection, and, amazingly enough, it’s only through Him that I can even show that affection.  So, to all the things of this world that are passing away, I say, “Move out of the way, cause the King of Glory has taken up residence in my heart!”

I’ve been thinking a lot about heaven lately. Listening to certain songs and recollecting on my childhood has brought up a lot of these thoughts. Let me explain:

I grew up in Chicago. I knew nothing about kolaches, Aggies, Longhorns, the Alamo, or heat indexes of 110 degrees, until I was almost 16 years old. I survived winters that plummeted below zero degrees every year without fail. I pronounced the letter “a” with (perhaps) too much gusto. I called cokes “pop” and “fixin’” meant that something was broken and was going to be repaired.

Then, in June of 1999, I packed all of my things and set out on my journey to the south. I have lived in Houston for almost 9 years. That number baffles me now that I look at it. But Houston has become my home. I no longer think of myself as a native Chicagoan. I know Texas geography better than I know that of Illinois, and I much more prefer the warm winters of the south.

As I was on the plane with my sister headed back to our birthplace, she was so excited to be going home. She sees the north as her heart’s true dwelling. I, on the other hand, have fallen in love with the south and feel like I’m on a vacation when I’m in Chicago rather than going home for a visit. Houston is my home, now, and I’m fine with that.

But here’s my point: My home has changed. It went from a small, comfy house nestled in the suburbs of Chicago where the seasons really changed to a small, quaint apartment near the waters of the Gulf of Mexico where it’s almost always hot no matter what month is marked on the calendar.

But we have hope of a home that we have not seen yet. Heaven awaits us and that will not change. Some days I get so excited at that thought that tears well up in my eyes. Other days, I live as if there is nothing farther from the truth and I focus on the things of the earth. And still, on other days it’s a healthy mix of both.

The truth of the matter is, we belong somewhere that we have never seen. We’ve never smelled the air. We’ve never seen ran our fingers along the walls of our house. We’ve never felt the streets beneath our feet as we saunter through a sunny day. We have yet to meet our King face to face. And yet, that is our true home. We have yet to see the true glory of the place where we will eternally dwell.

But that day is coming.

So, as I reflect on my ever changing home here on earth, I’m going to try to constantly remind myself that this is not where I belong. I may call Houston my home, and say that originally I am from Chicago. But in reality, my home is not of this world. I’m excited to see the day when I have reached my final destination.