Our home

I've had this subject rolling around in my head for a long time. As in, the place that I live, or what I call "home."

Caleb and I started looking for a house back in the northern Indiana area last year...and started looking more seriously with a realtor in November. At that point, I was pretty antsy to have our own place(even though I loved and appreciated living with my parents). We started discussing what kind of house we wanted back in Denver, and what our goals were financially.

Most of you know we both hate debt, and had thoughts of even paying cash for a house and never even having a mortgage. But...we would have had to get a pretty cheap, not so nice house to do that.

Another thing that drives my thinking is wanting to live simply. I tend to be against the whole American dream idea. I want to be responsible with what God gives us and not accumulate a lot of stuff so that we can be better givers. Partly in reaction to some things in the past, I decided I never wanted a big house or a lot of stuff. I want to stay away from being materialistic. I wanted a small house where we could still be generous and hospitable.

So when this house came along and it seemed like a crazy good deal for the size, I was pretty sure it wouldn't work out for us because of how big it was. Yeah, it's beautiful, but I thought surely God wouldn't want us in a house like that. But Caleb(and I eventually agreed) that we should at least pray and consider putting an offer on it. We came up with an offer that seemed reasonable for what we could do, but thought there would be only a small chance that we'd get it over someone else. We even went to see a few other houses the weekend after we put the offer in. We really liked one of them(in Blair Hills) and thought we'd put a good offer in that one if the first one was rejected.

I was pretty sure this house would be a big financial burden and that we wouldn't get it, so was super surprised when the bank accepted our offer. With the prayer and thought we(and others) put into it, I have to believe it was God's direction. Even so, it didn't make sense to me. I still don't understand why He would lead us to such a nice(and large) house, and questioned if it was really directed by Him. But His ways are mysterious, and I am incredibly grateful for what He has given us, for whatever reason.

Finally, back to the title...what this is really about. I've lived in a lot of places, especially since after high school, and more recently while we traveled. Since moving around more often, I've thought a lot what "home" is. Home to me has become anywhere I am with my husband. Even in the cramped hotel near DC for a month, it was home. I have learned not to be attached too much to the physical place. Even more than where home is with my husband, my real home is in heaven. In my varying circumstances, God has been reminding me "this place is not your home." That really excites me! It is a great reminder for me now to not get attached to the physical or material things we have. He reminds me what is really important...to keep my eyes fixed on what is eternal. I really struggle with that some days. I can see the danger of falling into the trap of materialism while owning a home, and how when life is good(especially for Americans), people lose sight of God. I do that. So my prayer is that I will be constantly humbled and daily remember that "this is not our home." And to do daily what we were created to do...give God glory, because He has given freely everything we have, and we don't deserve any of it.

What are your thoughts on what "home" is?