- August 22, 2018
- Lori Travers
Fifteen years ago, our self-move, Penske, “unlimited miles” truck rambled down over state lines from New Jersey to North Carolina. Along with 2 fully loaded vehicles (dog included) one could view the telltale heel marks screeching along the asphalt, as I desperately tried clinging to the old, hoping that this move was simply a bad dream.
But when I awoke the morning after the grueling 16-hour trek (replete with soaking rain, avoided car wrecks, and road construction), the realization that this Jersey girl would settle in the south hit me hard. Bless my heart.
Some would call me a “nester”, a “rooter”, a woman who fondly enjoys a change of clothes, but loathes a change of address. I get comfortable in my surroundings and avoid “For Sale” signs like the plague. When the option to move is presented, I tend to display, rather, a “Do Not Disturb” sign.
So here I am, 15 years later and in the throes of another move. I have friends who have moved numerous times as careers have directed them. They seem to do it with ease and relocation is just another step in their life’s journey. But not me. I bristle and hide and stress and complain and reason and pray and resist. And yes, eventually, I move.
I asked the Lord what in the world is my issue, as this move is only across to the other side of town! I’m a pathetic extrovert who thrives on meeting new people, talking with anyone who is willing to converse, getting into the nitty gritty of another’s life fast! I love visiting new places, but “there’s no place like home” easily becomes my mantra and I prefer it to be consistently one familiar setting.
Why is this? Maybe it’s because I had some crushing moves when I was single, literally feeling displaced and neglected. I’m sure there’s something soulish that never wants to identify with that time and place ever again.
But “moving on” is a normal aspect of this life and learning to let go and grab hold of a new season and a new dwelling doesn’t have to be traumatizing.
As I packed up, discarded, gave away and sold our overstock, I was reminded that Jesus encouraged us for the ultimate move. In John 14, Jesus reminds his disciples that His Father’s house has many rooms and He’d prepare a place for them, and that He’d come back and get them. And that they knew the way there! Then He said that HE was the “way, the truth, and the life.” THIS tells me that my ultimate home is here and now as well as there and then.
While I was weeping, once again, into yet another almost-full U-Haul box, a friend happened to send me the song Jesus Your Love, as she said it had deeply ministered to her. Apparently, my good God saw fit for me to listen to it via Youtube at the moment of my sadness. The lyrics that shot a love arrow straight into my heart were these:
There is a Love that takes me by the hand
Guiding my heart to find its home again
And where You are is home to me
Jesus, Your love
Jesus, Your love
So let my heart tell You again
When seasons change and stories end
Your steady love
It will sustain me through it all
Jesus, Your love -(Jesus Your Love-Christine DeMarco)
HE is home. HE is my stability, my comfort, my place of rest and my reason for joy!
I wonder where you are right now? I mean where are you…emotionally, spiritually, relationally? The longing for stability and a sense of settling in will be fulfilled one fine day in ways we can only imagine. And I SO long for that day when my true home will finally be realized. But until then I am here. And so are you. Rather than pining for another set of circumstances or longing for what used to be, I’m reminded that Jesus lives with me, always present, continually inviting me to walk through new doors of experience with Him while unpacking and discarding the baggage of regrets, fears, and shame.
Moving day doesn’t have to be a drag…or traumatic. Rather than be dragged, heels dug deeply, may you and I go willingly where He leads us. After all, it’s where He is and has always been.