Home.

Whoever said you can't ever go back home is right. I spent the last few days in the little coastal town in Oregon, where I grew up. All going back does is serve to remind me that home just simply isn't, not anymore. I find myself visiting all the places where I left so many fond memories. I'm always ultra-nostalgic, extremely reflective. I'm restless when I come back...it's like I keep looking for something...

I finally realized what it was I was looking for on one particularly rare and sunny afternoon, as I walked along the beach in front of our motel. It seemed every where I went, I collected memories, almost like the smooth white stones I was picking up that had been tossed ashore by the waves. Obviously, the common denominator of all my memories is me. They are all about me, the child, Peg. That's when it struck me...I was looking for me! Of course, while I can replay old mental videos of my life, I will never find what I was after...and that made me sad...

About as sad as I felt the morning I drove past the house where I grew up.  I don't know who owns it now, but they sure don't put the TLC into it that my parents did.  My dad was an amazing landscaper. His yards were always immaculate. Mom was a tedious, spotless house keeper.  If you ever drove past that little house on the corner of 4th & Ocean Drive, you knew  it was reflective of hard-working, responsible, caring people. Not so, now.  If a house could be embarrassed, this one wishes a sink hole would open up and swallow it (and, it might). It's falling apart; it's unkempt; and the poor thing is perishing...(not to mention someone painted it bright blue and accented it with hot pink trim). Nope, you really can't ever go back home...

But, Jesus...  Following Easter, I started reading 1 Peter.  No reason, other than it had been a while since I'd gone through Peter's letters. God ordained it...knowing what I needed, and where I'd be. After taking some time on the first couple of verses, I landed on Chapter 1, verses three and four:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to obtain an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you...

Here in this little town, all the memories of my life crescendoed at one particular moment: my salvation.  At that moment, I was born again to a living hope, which was settled and secured that first Easter morning, when Jesus rose from the dead.  With it, I was granted an inheritance.  A new home.  A place, that my resurrected Lord is preparing for me, reserving it in heaven, until that day in which it will be revealed to me.  But, do you see it?  It's a home that never fades, is never corrupted by life, or what man might do, or not do, to it.  Never, ever, will it perish.  One day, home will be a place I will always be able to go back to, and always, always, find me - the completed me (as made perfect in Christ).  One day I'll see the dots connected between each and every memory and the me I became, because Jesus ordained it all... It's not surprising that Peter's next words are:  In this you greatly rejoice...  In this, your hope of a heavenly home, you have jump-up-and-down, skip-and-leap, overflowing joy!

Yes, I do... It never ceases to amaze me how God can speak to my sorrow and turn it into such great joy! He's just like that, though, isn't he?

The house I grew up in...

A daily view...