I've stayed there many times for periods of a couple weeks, 4 weeks at the longest. But I have many memories from that place. Many hours out in the sheds, pulling papers. Times out in the front lawn playing catch, eating Thanksgiving dinner with my grand parents over and friends and family all having a great time, setting up Christmas decorations, jogging coupons, packing my bags to head off to Alaska. Without a doubt a place where I have made many memorable memories. A place where I know what I can do, what I can't do, what I should do, what I shouldn't do. A place that I am familiar with. A place I often refer to as my "home away from home", but easily a place worthy of being called home.
I haven't been able to visit my "real" home, the place where I grew up and my parents and younger siblings currently live, for a little over 3 years now. Yet, I still call it home. Being a missionary kid, with your parents in a different cotenant, it can be difficult to go back and visit on the weekends. =) One day I was looking on Google maps, and I zoomed in on my "home" there in Poland, and I saw the street names and started reminiscing about the days long ago, when I would ride my bike to school, when I first get onto Reymonta and the road is only dirt. Swerving back and forth to dodge all the big dips and holes in the road. I zoomed on the school that I went to, saw the athletic fields in the back, remembering those days at school, on that field when we would play soccer. Looking at the school gym, remembering how my brother and I used to ride our bikes there in the evenings when we were taking karate classes. Then I zoomed back on my house. Looked at the trees, remembered that one birch tree that I used to climb, but needed my rope to get me a boost up to the first branch. Looked over at the spot where we had the old tree house years ago. Looked at the yard, all green and grassy, remembering how my brother and I used to have to mow that whole thing with our one little push mower. Remembering how the whole yard used to be completely covered in nothing but sand before my parents planted grass. Looked at the hill, remembering the days when it would snow, and we kids would break out the sleds and slide down it. Looked at the trampoline and remember how my friend, Daniel (Polish kid), used to do front flips on that thing and tried to get me to do them too (though I never was successful). Looked at the roof of my house, and pictured the inside, the 2nd floor, the ground floor, and the basement. Picturing them in my mind as if I had a blueprint laid out in front of me. Very familiar with that house, that yard, that area. Definitely home to me.
Yet there are other places I call home. BJU is one of them. Yes, I have actually referred to my college as "home" before. Some people observe that as an oddity, but really, in the past 3 years that is where I have lived and spent most of my life, slept there, ate there, washed my clothes there, everything. Basically all of my friends are there at BJU as well (or used to be there, but have graduated already). I have many memories there such as getting lost in downtown Greenville on my bike, at night. Running in the turkey bowl every year, attending various Artist Series events, spending hours locked up in the library studying for my classes, shooting pictures for class, going on bible club extension every Friday evening since arriving on campus as a young, wide-eyed, energetic freshman, having crazy/hilarious conversations with roommates. So many things. So many memories, mostly favorable, though some not as much. Sometimes I wish I could go back and undo problems I caused, or others' emotions I damaged because of not realizing the extent of my actions. But other times I think back on an event and a smile emerges on my face, because of the many wonderful times with friends. BJ is also a place I am quite familiar with, a place I know, a place where I am comfortable being. A place I feel I can call home.The fact of the matter is that a "home" is not just a building you live in. It's not just a physical structure that protects your body from the elements. It seems that a home is more than that. It is a place where you reside, yes, but also a place where you feel comfortable, a place you know well, a place you are familiar with, because you have spent the time required there to become familiar with it. Because of my situation, with going to college a great distance from my mother and father, yet still having family here in the US where I often stay, I have several different places where I can call home. I know I am not a unique case, and that there are others who have several places where they call home as well. Here I have mentioned 3 separate places that I call home, but there is a 4th that I haven't mentioned yet. That one is actually the most important of the group, because I won't live there for 2 years, or 5 years, or even 13 years. I will live there for an eternity, in a mansion none the less. Yes, that home is heaven.
The question is though, when I arrive at that home, will I be familiar with it? Of course I can't go currently and visit or anything like that, but will I have spent the time becoming familiar with it? Have I spent time getting to know the master of the house, his character? I should, because in reality that is my true home. We often get caught up with things happening in these homes, and neglect to spend time learning about our future home. However, we must remember that these homes here are just temporary, but that future home is our true home. For, this world is not my home, I'm just a passin' through. Never neglect your true home, because you are caught up too much with your current home. =)Far from homeless,
Tim
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