Cottage
Thomas Kincade, Painter of Light
Going home. The sound of it is so inviting. For some of us throughout our childhood, home represented the fabric of family blended together in a beautiful pattern that created safety, security and a collective identity of what our family stood for and did together. For others of us, home brings a chill to our spine, or even a turned stomach at what violated us. Sometimes the mere absence of significance for a child is enough in this culture of technology, accomplishment and image-based parenting. Regardless of your experience, whether close to perfection or the most traumatic, the truth is, Mamas, we are all orphans searching for our Home.
How do we know this? By our lost and lonely hearts. If you ever search for your significance through what you do or who you please, you are, in that moment, acting out of your orphaned heart. If you have ever questioned your safety or well-being, or have ever tried to control your environment or relationships so that you will not experience pain, you are, in that moment, an orphan. And if you question yourself, spend time analyzing your thoughts, actions, or words (I have yet to meet a woman who doesn't), or perhaps spend much time on your outward appearance, you are experiencing the insecurity of an orphan.
You see, I think we'd be hard-pressed to find a Mama who hasn't experienced her orphan heart in these ways. I know I have, and when I find myself acting as an orphan, I have only recently realized that it is Jesus inviting me to come Home, rest in His arms, and re-realize my adoption by Him.
My orphan heart tends to surface when I get into a place of "taking it all on." We Mamas are famous for this. Because I am still learning to recognize the incredible care of my Father, I find that I often forget how much care and love He extends to me, as well as His incredibly intimate involvement in my moment-to-moment daily life. I know that I reach this orphaned place because it is usually signified by stress, feelings of being overwhelmed, and a lack of joy. That is a red flag, Mamas! That red flag should stop us in our tracks and remind us that we just drifted away from Home. We started walking around the block, forgetting that our Father and King -- the One with all the answers, hope, freedom, grace, and joy -- is right back at Home, waiting for us. In fact, the Word tells us that His love is centered upon us; He dances and sings over us! Now that does not sound like a father who abandons and leaves us on our own. No, He delights in every breath we take and cannot wait for us to understand more deeply that we belong to Him.
What I am realizing in this journey of motherhood is that the more I can stay Home in my heart, drinking in the love and care of my truest Father, the more I reflect an earthly home with my own children that Jesus Himself would keep. You see, that is the cry of my heart. I want my home to be the presence, the joy, the wonder, the delight, the love, the peace, the freedom, and the grace of Jesus. Not only do I want my own children and family to experience it, but I want others who visit our home to feel it too. And this is not something I can create in my own strength, through some magical or formulaic thinking -- no, this only comes as a gift from God as we travel Home and stay there ourselves.
This week, Mamas, as we begin a new week after a long holiday weekend, let's all open our hearts to Home. Ask Jesus to show you the orphaned places in your own heart. Ask Him to reveal the beauty and freedom of living in His house each day.
"For the Spirit which you have now received is not a spirit of slavery to put you once more in bondage to fear, but you have now received the Spirit of adoption [the Spirit producing sonship] in which we cry, Abba Father! The Spirit Himself testifies together with our own spirit, assuring us that we are children of God."
~Romans 8:15 (Amplified)
