November 19, 2008 | Seth Barnes | Simplicity Liberates You | 4 Comments | Views 2

The comforts of home

“Home is where the heart is, so your real home’s in your chest.” -Joss Wheldon We’re on the 747 returning home from Bangkok as I write this. It’s a full flight and I’ve been thankful for the exit row seat and the distraction of a few movies and magazines. Every now and then, the flight attenda…

By Seth Barnes

19 November 2008, 12:11 am

By Seth Barnes

19 November 2008, 12:11 am

“Home is where the heart is, so your real home’s in your chest.”
-Joss Wheldon

We’re on the 747 returning home from Bangkok as I write this. It’s a full flight and I’ve been thankful for the exit row seat and the distraction of a few movies and magazines.

Every now and then, the flight attendants rouse you from your grogginess to feed you like the witch fed Hansel and Gretel. It’s not been uncomfortable; though, I don’t know what Koreans see in the seaweed soup they gave us.

While it will be good to be back home, we find that we’re redefining what that means these days. Of course, there is the physical house in which we live – the bed in which we sleep, the things which whisper comfort to our spirits. We love our kids and will hug them all tightly to us. More than anything (certainly more than the memories or the physical aspects of the place), they define the comforts of home for us.

But now that we’re at an age where it’s appropriate for them to be leaving and eventually establishing separate homes of their own, the whole idea of “home, sweet home” is morphing into new shapes. When you strip away the family that filled your home, you’re left with a driveway, some furniture and maybe a few old pets tottering around. It can be a threadbare way to define home, hardly a safe place in a vagabond life. John le Carre said, “Coming home from very lonely places, all of us go a little mad: whether from great personal success, or just an all-night drive, we are the sole survivors of a world no one else has ever seen.”

In a way, all of us are strapped into something that may feel like this 747 – we wing our way through life in it; we may take comfort in it, and even some distraction, but it is as impermanent as the clouds we’ve been skimming over. In contrast, our hearts know that if home is anything, it must be somewhat permanent. In a country obsessed with youth and characterized by the temporal, our need for a place to call home has never been stronger.

When hell comes knocking and the house burns down or is repossessed by the bank, with my God and my relationships, I’ll still have a home. Life is harsh – we all need some hot tea by the fireplace to comfort us in its storms. I pray that you’ve got a place that feels like a safe harbor for you.

Comments (4)

Michelle Dierker

November 18, 2008 at 10:40 pm

Reply

Thank you for writing this Seth. I was just blogging the other day about the concept of home (you can read it at: http://www.gracearrived.blogspot.com if you’d like. It should be the 2nd post down). I think it’s something that happens as we travel. The more we see of the world, the more we also see of ourselves, and it becomes easier to find those comforts of home (as in the heavenly realm) in the people and places around you. Since I’ve been overseas, my parents have sold the house that I grew up in. I’ll be back for the first time next week. I think even a year or two ago this would have been a really difficult transition for me: leaving my “home” and knowing I would never really be returning to it. But my concepts of home have so drastically changed, and I know now that as long as I’m in the same safe harbor of my mother’s arms or my father’s kitchen, it doesn’t really matter where the physical location of home is. 🙂
Black

November 19, 2008 at 9:28 am

Reply

One of your best…
scott molgard

November 19, 2008 at 3:28 pm

Reply

yeah I agree with Black, thanks
Carol C

November 19, 2008 at 5:48 pm

Reply

Spot on and very timely. Thanks, Seth.