An Indistinct Word

During our time here in the US, we have stayed in several different homes. As we were discussing our plans the other day, we talked about going here and there visiting with various people and then going back to the house where we are staying as “going home.” My middle child said, “Home is an indistinct word for us right now.”  His observation struck me. Our house in Uganda feels like home for us all. 

But traveling around, visiting with many people, we have been staying in several different homes. Many people also say to us, “Welcome home!” When we are here in the US, there is some sense of coming home, but there is also a sense of missing our home in Uganda. We sometimes feel like we don’t quite fit here in American culture. I am reminded of this song by Jim Reeves:

This world is not my home I'm just a passing through, My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue, The angels beckon me from heaven's open door, And I can't feel at home in this world anymore

One of my closest Ugandan friends had this song on her phone as her ringtone. It has always been a beautiful reminder to me. While living cross culturally has its challenges, one of the blessings is that home is an indistinct word for us on this earth. It helps us to remember that our true home is in heaven with God. 

As we prepare to travel back to our home in Uganda, I am thankful for our home there. I am also thankful for that many who have welcomed us into their homes here in the US. And I am thankful that through faith we can look forward to our eternal Home in heaven, where we won’t have to keep saying goodbye to loved ones.