Gratitude for Home

Immediately following the closing ceremony for Vacation Bible School, one child squealed with considerable delight: “I’m going to stay in this church forever!” Why was this? Was she taking delight in the beautiful architecture of the sanctuary? Perhaps the abundant natural light pouring through all the stained-glass windows. Often, I hear from those well-traveled that our windows are equal to anything they have seen in European churches. Or it may be the striking beauty of the bright red carpet as it contrasts to the bright white interior and the spaciousness of the church furniture. Another possibility, of course, may the majesty of the pipe-organ, gold pipes of every size glistening under bright spotlights. In my thirty-seven years of ministry, First Presbyterian Church of Delray Beach remains among the most beautiful churches I have seen. It may be, simply, that this eight-year-old girl was responding to the overall beauty of the church: “I’m going to stay in this church forever!”

Naturally, each of these features strikes a positive impression and every adult who worships see the intentional planning from the initial design to the first service—every adult, not eight-year-old children. Which returns us to the original question, what was that little girl’s exclamation all about, “I’m going to stay in this church forever!” Five days of Vacation Bible School had just concluded. Each of those days were filled with imaginative teaching of the story of Jesus in his hometown of Nazareth. Sprinkled throughout the teaching was engaging singing, craft-making, snacks, and experiencing the delight and love of the other children and adult teachers. Not one feature of the sanctuary, with its remarkable beauty, touched the thirty-one children that week. The experience of an extended family of love, and embrace, and encouragement is what positively impacted the children. It was the silliness, and laughter, and singing together, woven together into a beautiful tapestry, that created a longing to remain there forever. Together, they had created a home away from home.

There is no place like home—a sentiment that resonates with every heart that has lived in one place for a meaningful period. Families grew by the birth of children, and possibly, declined with the death of a loved one. Homework was completed, music lessons endured, and birthdays and anniversaries celebrated. Dinner tables welcomed special guests, particularly during the holidays, and the seasons of the year were marked by decorations and family traditions that go way, way back. Home was more than a place where you happened to be living for a time. Home became a special place, distinguishable from other places, from the rich stories that were woven into the fabric of a special and unique family. Except home, that unique story that is so sweet, that is unlike any other place, is not the actual residence. Any other family could have lived in the same place and created an entirely different story, a different home. Like a church sanctuary, a residence is simply where stories of love, laughter, and meaning are woven together into a home.

Homes are never sold. Homes are never damaged by weather. Homes are never foreclosed by a lending institution. Each of those scenarios belong to physical dwellings, a residence. Homes move from one residence to another. Homes grow by births and contract by deaths. Homes are always in a continued state of birth and rebirth. Stories are crafted, relationships are deepened, scars occasionally appear from misunderstandings, poorly spoken words, and simple human frailty, and made whole again by extravagant forgiveness. Home is a feeling of belonging. Occasionally, a residence will change due to a change in employment, a retirement, or changes in health. A home remains a home from one residence to another. Changes in residences provide an opportunity to expand the tapestry of home—new stories, new experiences, new opportunities such as that experienced by an eight-year-old girl during Vacation Bible School. Leaving a residence is difficult when the dwelling is confused with home. Only one response is healthy as a residence is left—gratitude, gratitude for the home that was built there. The home that now moves to another place.

Joy,