To the lost and lonely. The outcasts. Downtrodden. And forgotten. This one’s for you. But don’t worry. It’s for me, too.
We all long for a place to belong. A place to call home. And it’s more than a building with a front door. We desire something more.
Does God have a home? Yes. But it may surprise you to know His address.
In the Old Testament, God dwelt in a temple. Behind a curtain. In the Most Holy Place. Where only the highest priest could go. And he had a lamb to show.
Once a year. For the forgiveness of sins. But it never made amends.
So God put Himself in our shoes. Through the person of Jesus Christ. To be the perfect sacrifice.
But Jesus didn’t have a bed. He had no place to lay His head. And when He died, the curtain in that temple was torn in two. I’m confused. I don’t know about you.
Does God have a home?
The answer remains. And it’s vital. Look no further than your Bible.
Jesus says this in John 14:23. “‘If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him’” (ESV).
Whoa! Wait a minute. Let’s be sure to get it. Because in this verse I see something bizarre. God is saying, “I am home where you are.”
Not where you used to be. Not where you wanna be. Right here. Right now. He’s as close to you as you’ll allow.
So say “goodbye” to loneliness. Kick that lie out the door. Are you feeling lost and forgotten? You don’t got to anymore.
God is home where you are. In the midst of your brokenness. In the midst of your pain. In the midst of your wondering. He’s closer than your own brain.
The same Sprit that raised Jesus from the dead lives in you. I know it sounds too good to be true.
But God has purchased you. You’re His home. You’re not up for rent. You’re chosen, called, equipped, and sent.
But wait. There’s more. Home contracts are twofold. You have an end to uphold. God has claimed you as His own. But have you answered the phone?
You see, God says, “I am home where you are.” But can you say the same to Him? Or are you living on a limb? Trying to be at home with the things of this earth. Seeking, searching, and finding nothing of worth.
I don’t know about you, but I know what I must do. With open arms. And open hands. It’s time to enter my promised land.
So together. With one voice. With one accord. I make it known that I’m at home with my Lord.
I know He’s not far. So together we say, “I am home where you are.”