Homesick

Yesterday marked our two years anniversary in Sydney. Two years! I can't believe it... A lot of people ask us "So does Sydney feel like home?", or "Do you feel settled?". Some people ask "Do you ever feel like going back?", or "Do you miss home?". Strangely, most of the time I don't know how to answer those questions because two years feels like a long enough time for me to have missed a lot of important events and milestones in the lives of all the loved ones back in the U.S. Time and distance seem to have inevitably caused a certain kind of "disconnect". It seems so long ago that we packed or bags and waved good-bye to our friends and family who blessed us and wished us all the best. I can tell it's been a long time because the emails and phone calls have been fewer lately (hint, hint ).

But at the same time, it is still too short for us to feel like we have built a strong solid base here. We feel like we have barely scratched the surface here; there is still so much to learn about life and people here. It takes time to nurture the relationships we've built here thus far, and we're constantly trying to build more. Also, old habits die hard so we still find ourselves getting frustrated from time to time when things don't "work" the way they do back in the U.S. Like the other day we arrived an hour late to a picnic because we couldn't figure out how to get to the other side of the park! Strange and confusing mixed-emotions...

So where IS home? Is home where the heart is? Is home where the loved ones are? Is home where happy memories grow? I read an interesting excerpt about a post-war family who moved from place to place in search of a place to settle. "On one occasion, the family was standing in a train station surrounded by their tattered suitcases, boxes and bags when a bystander approached the family's six-year-old daughter and remarked, 'You poor darling, moving about so much with no place to call home.' The little girl looked up in surprise. 'You are mistaken,' she replied, 'I do have a home I just don't have a house to put it into.'" It is interesting how this little girl's response resonates with me because since the time we have been "floating" in preparation to come live/serve in Australia to this day, our motto has been "Home is where our king-sized bed is."

So why is it that I can't even explain where home is and yet still have this longing for a home? It can only mean one thing: I am homesick for heaven. Do you sometimes feel this way?

Each day brings me closer to life's curtain call,
When the face of my Lord I will see.
I'll no longer be homesick, for I will be home,
And with Jesus forever I'll be.

(from "Homesick for Heaven", a poem by Betty Jo Mings)