I get pretty homesick here in New Delhi.
I’m not sure what triggers it, but I think it’s mainly just a craving I get for things that are familiar.
Sometimes I’ll think about Houston and all the places that I like to visit when I’m there.
Or sometimes I’ll think about my mother-in-law’s place, where it’s surrounded by nature and quiet.
Other times I’ll think about our old apartment in Kansas City, with all the bike trails nearby and how close it was to all the places we liked to eat and shop.
In my heart I’ll feel a longing for these places. I want to go back and live there again. I want to hear the familiar quiet, smell the familiar smells, and see the familiar things.
I want to be back where I’m comfortable and I know my way around. I want to be where I know all the best places to buy groceries, where I can anticipate the change in seasons, and where I know what to expect from the culture.
But during our last trip to the US, as I was enjoying being home for a little while, I couldn’t shake this thought: “No matter how much I may miss the US, the US is not my home.”
Yes, it’s true.
America is a beautiful and blessed country. And I’m thankful to have been born in such a prosperous nation. But it’s not my home.
It’s as temporary a dwelling place as India. A fleeting shadow. And I’m just as much a foreigner there as I am here in India.
I have a more secure and permanent home hidden in the person of Jesus.
And as much as I long to be “home”, Jesus is aching to find His home in me too. When He was with his disciples He told them He had no place to rest His head. (Mt. 8:20)
We’re both homesick. And we can only find our true homes in one another.
It’s just like Jesus said: if we dwell in Him, He will also dwell in us. (Jn 15:4)
So as much as I ache to be physically back in the US, what I’m really aching for is the fullness of the Kingdom to be made manifest. Because my true home, united and alive in Christ, is being continually built up for all eternity.