Home
Home.
The place we have all spent more time than we ever thought possible. It has become the workplace, the classroom, the date night destination and the place for a staycation.
Home.
A place I had always taken for granted, until we were kicked out of the country in which we had chosen to make our home.
Home.
A place that I suddenly lost, and longed to have.
My husband’s work had brought about a move to America. We were excited for the adventure, as well as sad to leave family and friends. We sold our house, and were on our way to the Mid-West and Illinois.
After about four months of settling in, navigating the cultural differences and finding our way around the local area, we - us and our two small sons - were beginning to feel at home. My husband headed back to the UK on a business trip, and I steeled myself for two weeks of single parenting in a relatively new environment.
It all went as well as could be expected, on both sides of the Atlantic. And we were all full of anticipation for his return. I was about to jump in the car to go and collect him from the airport, when I got an unexpected call from his mobile.
‘I’m in Dublin’, came the quiet, desperate sounding voice on the other of the phone, ‘My visa has been revoked and I can’t get back to America. You need to get on a plane as quickly as possible.’
Shock. Tears. Disbelief. And a panicked phone call to my sister back in the UK.
Was this it? Would we ever return to the place that was beginning to feel like home? What do I pack? How much can I fit into two suitcases, and how much can I carry as well as managing two little people? How does a solo long-haul flight with those same little people work? Why was this happening to us?
So many questions. And so many tears, while kind friends packed around me, looked after the boys and gave comfort and help wherever possible. Less than twelve hours after my husband’s phone call, we were dropped at the airport and were on our way back home…while feeling distraught at having to leave our newest home. It felt like a big loss of what we had only just come to appreciate.
Home.
We were suddenly caught in a homeless limbo. Our house in the States was out of reach, and our house in England was no longer ours. Generous friends and family gave up space in their homes for us to stay. Their kindness was overwhelming. We moved from one house to another at least six times in the space of eight months.
We longed for a home. We longed for certainties. We longed for what we had lost, while also feeling unsure as to whether we should just give up on what we had started.
Throughout the uncertainties, we knew the God of certainty. The God of the Bible, who is powerful enough to have created the world, but loving enough that he knows, and is with, individuals. Even us. And as we knew him, we prayed to him, and trusted him with our desire for a home, for stability and for certainty.
Steady in our God, because of the steadfast, unchanging love he has shown us. Love most evident in the life and death of Jesus.
This secure, everlasting love meant that - while longing for a house to live in - we could hold loosely to whatever happened now.
Home.
Six months or so after settling back into American ways (after eight months of limbo and a successful visa application), we watched the world go into pandemic-prompted lockdown. We were ordered to ‘shelter in home’, just like much of the world.
Ironically, we are now not allowed to return to our other home - that homeland filled with family and friends. We feel acutely the loss of time with loved ones, and long for the landscape to change.
But, amidst the loss and longing, we rest in the wonderful reality of the deep, unshakeable, everlasting love of God. Love that is not dependent on circumstances, but on the compassionate, generous heart of God. Love that is outrageous in that it is undeserved, and yet welcomes all who turn and run into the arms of our creator God.
Home.