Coming Home Part 2

Whether you go out on the town for the day or are gone for a week to a distant country; there is nothing like coming home. The house may be small with imperfections or mansion like with all the fixtures. Still there is something about the bathroom where you can find everything, where you know the quirks of the faucet handle and where the hand-towel is. There is a comfort in plopping down on your own couch then finally getting up and climbing into your own bed beneath crisp sheets and atop a pillow that’s accustomed to your head. You can let your hair down in your own home more than anyplace else in the universe.


Home is a safe place; or should be. We’ve encountered houses that weren’t homes. We’ve come home to a place that wasn’t safe where relaxation wasn’t possible because one had to keep our guard up just that little bit. This was coming to a place where you lived but really it wasn’t coming home. Your stuff was there but your nemesis was there too, in whatever form it came, work, drink, money problems, addiction or maligning spouse. It was a place that you lived and so you called it home.

It’s never the perfectly safe place or the fulfillment of all creature comforts. We want the escape from pressure and the complete retreat from the world. The children of God will one day experience this. We are promised a place imperishable and undefiled that will not fade away. Perfect rest will be met there and perfect comfort and fulfillment will be ours to experience. For now though the coming home is sweet, the couch perfect and the bed---oh, the bed at the end of the day!