I've put too many things on hold. My mental tape mechanically warbles the phrase, "When we find a house . . . ." And I fill in the blank. When we find a house, then I'll get back into a routine. When we find a house, then I'll be able to focus on character issues with the children. When we find a house, then I'll be organized, patient and amazingly productive. (Oh, just you wait and see!)
When we find a house . . . .
But my real home is not here. Not on this earth. Which means that even when we do find a house, I'll still have the same issues to deal with. Because my new creation self will still struggle against my weak human nature. My children will not automatically incline themselves toward attentiveness and orderliness the minute the moving van pulls away. The amazing habits which I wish to develop in myself will not suddenly descend upon me. Having four walls to call my own will not instantly make me more like Christ.
Because there's nothing magical about a house.
The magic is in the home. And a home is something that I already have. I have a home in the presence of my heavenly Father, and so does the rest of my family. For doesn't home mean safety, warmth and love? I have that. Doesn't home mean acceptance, forgiveness and peace? I have that. And doesn't home mean hope? Oh, boy do I have that.
So what on earth am I waiting for? I can be more like Christ today. I can model patience for my children right now. I can pray without ceasing as I watch them struggle to make wise choices. And I can even ask the Lord to help me create a routine that will be helpful in the mean time.
Sure, a house will be nice. But a home to go with it? Well now, that's even better.