Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at your alters, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in your house, ever singing your praise! (Psalm 84:3-4)
What a beautiful picture of the home. We all need a home. We all need a place to lay our heads and lay our young. A place where family gathers and fellowship is shared.
These last several months have been hectic in our home. Buying a home is a big deal. Finding out you’re pregnant is a big deal. Moving is a big deal. A husband gone more than he’s home is a big deal. Experience all of your “big deals” at the same exact time in the short span of a few months and you have one HUGE DEAL!
Needless to say we’ve been meeting ourselves coming in a lot of ways. There have been many sleepless nights and long days. There’s been too much take out and not enough family togetherness around the dinner table. There’s been fights and forgiveness, tears and laughter, joy and sorrow.
In the middle of it all, our whole world and all we had built over the last year in our new town crumbled around us.
For those new to IBG, my family moved 1,500 miles across the country a year ago to small resort town in Colorado to take a job and follow a calling. It has been one of the hardest, most sanctifying times of my entire life.
As our world crumbled, I couldn’t help but take a look around me. Within the four walls of our home, there were boxes everywhere, dust on every available surface, dishes in the sink, dog drool on the couch, paper piles everywhere, soap scum on the shower door, and we were out of toilet paper.
Our home was chaos – a direct reflection of what was going on in our hearts.
To be fair, we did move in the dead of winter in snow piles up to our waists; my husband was traveling everywhere under the sun multiple times a week; and I was in my first trimester of pregnancy while managing a two year old. I have no guilt for the state my home was in. There are seasons, but eventually you have to pick up a broom again; eventually you have to clean a toilet; and eventually you have to replace the toilet paper. Regardless of what got us here, I learned a lesson.
All those little mundane tasks – cleaning the toilet, sweeping the floor, dusting the shelves – they matter.
Not for the mere sake of keeping a tidy home, but homemaking matters because when the storms are swirling around you, your family needs a sanctuary. Your family needs a place to come and be safe. Your family needs a home where they can be restored.
Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. (Matthew 7:24-25)
As the rain came and the thunder clapped in our spiritual lives, I wonder how different things could have been for my family if our home had been a haven built on a rock; if our home had been a reflection of the beauty and grace of God; if our home had been orderly and predictable as our unchanging Father in Heaven.
I can’t know that answer. But what I can know is “blessed are those who dwell in [His] house, ever singing [His] praises.”
We all need a home built on the rock of Jesus Christ our Savior.
If you’re married, we have a responsibility as husband and wife to represent Christ and the church. As a wife and a mom, I have a responsibility to care for my home, helping my husband, and ensuring my family has a shelter from the storms of life. This shelter starts with a broom and dust pan, a scrub brush and an apron, a heart and a mission.
The rain still sprinkles around our little teal house on a hill, but one day at a time, I do the next thing. I make a list and I work diligently because when the next storm comes in, I want to be ready.
May I be like the wise man who built his house a rock and like the swallow who finds a nest for herself and her young so that my family can sing His praises!