Walter Ufer’s Winter in New Mexico, Harwood Museum
For the past three years, I have been pushed, not always gently, into learning what home means.
Nearly three years ago, rising waters pushed me from my house of nearly twenty years into guest bed rooms and then into a parishioner’s vacant house. I returned to my newly rebuilt house until even higher rising waters floated me into other guest bedrooms and another rental property. I rebuilt the house again and planned to stay there awhile. Until a new call from God sent me looking for another house closer into town
I’ve been looking for that next house for two months. I put a bid on one place that seemed perfect, but I was outbid. I put a bid on another house and had to withdraw that bid because of too many issues revealed during the inspection.
I’ve spent a lot of time these past two months thinking about the next place I’ll live. Lots of conversation with others and myself, and, oh yes, God.
Before I left Oregon Christmas, departing a day early because I was still searching for my next living space, my grandson, Austin, prayed a beautiful prayer for me. I usually don’t remember the specifics of most prayers, but in this prayer Austin ended asking that God would give me wisdom, especially as I looked for my new home.
As I’ve asked God for guidance, I’ve thought about Austin’s request for wisdom.
I think I have an answer: In my searching and frustration and longing and ever hoping, I’ve finally realized: I have a home. Always. I may not know where my next house will be, but wherever I am, that is my home.
Home is where we are. Whether we like it or not. Whether we want to be there or not. Whether or not we long for another type of home are not. Home is the place we are standing or sitting now.
When I was in my first post-flood rental, the Spirit gave me a verse to repeat during Centering Prayer:
My heart is your home.
I understand this prayer in two ways:
God’s home is in my heart.
My home is in God’s heart.
I always have a home. All of us do. It is in the heart of God, and it is God dwelling within our hearts.
I’m still looking for that next house, but meanwhile, in the Casa de las Abuelas here in Taos, I am home.
5 thoughts on “Searching for home”
The artist I studied with last summer owns the Six Hand Hat Company in Taos just off the square. have a blessed time in New Mexico.
Thank you for your story. My husband is on the National Lung Transplant List and when this miracle comes, we will need to live for 3-4 months about two hours away for his post op healing. One of the big stressors for me has been thiking about leaving our home for that amount of time as we only moved into this home 7 months ago. God certainly worked through your words in this “Searching for Home” to reassure me that “all will be well” wherever I end up living temporarily. May your find “the right place” for your mind/body/spirit balance soon. I believe it will happen when you least expect it. Prayers for your peace. Rev. Louise Tallman, retired (ha ha …never)
Thank you, Louise. Please keep me posted. I’m holding you and yours in prayer.
Thanks …I appreciate that so much…