Giving God His Due: Build a Home

I was standing in the yard waiting for Dora the Explorer to do her nightly business when I looked toward our back door, the glow from the kitchen light beckoning. To me it is a guidepost toward home. To me it is a beacon of rest, laughter, family, security, sustenance, comfort --the list goes on and on, because the concept of home is not restricted by what we can see through a door. Home is subjective, personal, built by years of traditions, physical labor, compromise, and love. The home Scott and I have built does not, will not mean the same thing to you unless it becomes your home as well, unless you spend much time here, joining in our traditions or sharing your own with us, putting in the work, making concessions and receiving them, and loving as we love you. Home, when shared prodigally but appropriately is exponentially made better.

In this world, Scott is my home. Wherever he is, that's where my heart is. It's not mere statistics, however; he is my home not only because our names are listed together on our marriage license or mortgage, but because of time and traditions, work and compromise, and most of all, love. By sharing those things together, we have created a home within one another, a home that is in many ways duplicated and reflected in our home of brick and mortar, the home that we share with others. He is not simply someone I hang out with, and our home is not just a place to crash. I am not simply someone to help him remain organized any more than our home is just a place to store our stuff. The home we share in one another is exponentially made better when we share it prodigally but appropriately with others.

Dr. Tina Schermer Sellers in her book, God, Sex, and the Conservative Church, talks about the physical relationship God reserved for a husband and his wife. The expression "making love" has to do with the fact that as a couple experiences intimacy, their bond is being strengthened physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Love, more love, a deeper love, a better love is being made. And though their particular bond is exclusive to them, the love they make is used to produce children and is taken with them as they go out into the world through appropriate, prodigally loving interactions with others. 

When we talk about being ambassadors for Christ, when we understand we are salt and light to the world, when we are commissioned to make disciples, the message is that we are to be portable. We are to be taking our "home" on the road, so to speak. Those things that give us roots, and at the same time give us wings --the courage, boldness, and freedom-- to do incredible things for humanity are to be shared appropriately and prodigally with others. The comfort we receive on our worst days from those we love is to be passed on to others. The excitement as we sit on the edge of our seats watching our children open Christmas gifts is meant to be shared with the world. The security that typically goes unappreciated as we turn out the lights and head up to bed, is a security we should seek to provide in all our relationships. But how is this possible? What does appropriate and prodigal sharing look like? It looks like Jesus, the love and peace and joy we experience in Jesus, designed to be spread throughout all the world. In our marriages, wives submit to and respect their husbands; husbands love their wives as Christ loves the Church. In our friendships and work relationships, we love others as Christ has loved us, and we lovingly urge them to seek reconciliation with God through Jesus Christ. In our homes, we serve one another and together serve the Lord. In our bodies, we revere them as God's temple, the epicenter of His presence in this world. We set godly boundaries, hold others accountable, teach, train, comfort, and love lavishly (Proverbs 27:6; Colossians 3:12-17; Titus 2:11-14). And through all of this "home-making," we bring glory to the God who began it all, who created a temporary home for us here and who prepares a place for us to live with Him in eternity, Home in the truest sense of the word.