Home is where the heart is. Isn’t this the way the old cliche goes? It’s not the house, or the building, or the city, or even the things you own.
Home is where your heart is.
I watched my boy play outside because I couldn’t bear the thought of getting all geared up to tromp out into the biting wind. I ignored emails because I didn’t have the energy to formulate a response. I even stopped typing with capital letters. I was too lazy to even press the shift key!
My heart had strayed far from home.
I completely lost site of why homemaking is so important, why my being home is imperative to my family’s well being.
I completely forgot the ways of the Proverbs 31 woman. I failed to see the value in what I was doing, and I was tired of the mundane and meaningless tasks. I totally lost site of the big picture of home!
Why is the home so important?
Why is my commitment to homemaking so valuable?
Does it matter?
Do I really believe it matters, or am I just regurgitating what has been drilled into me for the past five years of my Christian life?
Does God value my role as a homemaker?
I don’t know about you, but I can listen to someone tell me what I do matters all day. However, until I truly believe it in my own heart, own it for myself, my actions will never reflect the true purposes of God. I realized my homemaking was being done without my heart.
When you simply fix a behavior, you can keep it up for a long time. I’ve been at it for five years. Five. From the outside looking in, you’d think I valued being home. You’d think my greatest joy was making lunches and kissing boo boos.
But on the inside? I was itching to do something bigger, better. I hated cleaning the floors, planning meals, and decorating my home. But it was the right thing to do.
I know this is ugly. I’m taking a big chance putting this out here for you to read. But it’s the truth. The raw, honest truth. Home is not where my heart has been.
But I serve a mighty God who will never leave me where He found me.
This year has been a complete year of refinement. A year where all of the “look good on the outside behavior” is crumbling to the ground, shattering into the tiniest flecks of dust.
True womanhood, which eluded me for many years, has taken on a brand new, never before understood meaning in my life. What it means to be a wife, a mom, a friend has slowly been stripped to its barest particles and revealed in greater glory. It’s as if the scales, so long caked onto my ever widening eyes, are peeling back and I’m seeing for the first time.
Is this what it means to know Jesus, the One crucified? Is this what it means to be renewed, transformed? Is it a continual stripping, a daily remembrance, a lifetime of change? I think so.
And so the home is where my heart will be when it’s all said and done.
Is your home where your heart is? Home is where I want my heart to be.
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