Home

The Stock Household has been in transition lately. Well, since April of last year really. We sold our house in Cartersville and moved into our friends’ house.  After nine months, we moved into Brian’s parents’ house (and shoved them out to their RV) for a week. Now, we are in the middle of 5 weeks of living in a training center in Colorado, with about 50 other people. Come next Friday, we’ll be back at my gracious in-laws’ for a week. Then, gulp, we head off to another continent.

Transition seems like too weak a word. Uproot? Take the plunge? Blast off? Whatever the word; it’s coming and we won’t be settled for quite some time.

I’m a homemaker…a domestic engineer, a house-wife, a stay-at-home mom. Home is my job. Home is so much part of how I love my family, rest in who I am in Christ and work for God’s glory.  Today I realized how much being homeless in some sense is wearing me down. There are some things I never counted when I counted the cost of this calling. Seems silly, but God...let me be silly?? I grieve the loss of the rooms, the rocking chair, our yard, the walk to the mailbox, smells and sounds, familiarity and safety. 

There is hope, because of course I know Jesus was homeless, transient and quite removed from the comforts of Heaven. I know until I get to Heaven, I am merely a sojourner and here is not my home. And I know God can give me grace through this shifting about. He gives me a sense of home in Him, in His Word, in His arms, in the stillness and the following. He gives grace in resourcefulness to set up home wherever the Stocks are. But here, in transition, it's hard to dwell in that.