For this world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come. Hebrews 13:14
As I sit here on my couch, blanket wrapped around my legs, I gaze at our Christmas tree. It's not the prettiest tree, by far.
It has colored lights. Mismatched ornaments. In fact, you will not find any matching ornaments on this tree. It's a jumble of color.
And I love it.
I feel a lot like this tree most days. Not the prettiest, not the neatest, and completely full of random.
I see this big green tree dressed up in lights and crazy things hanging from it. Trying its best to fit in. To look like the other pretty Christmas trees in the windows.
Surely this tree feels out of place. This is not really this tree's home.
Have you ever felt this way?
We put on our make-up and our clothes, and our best selves. We go out into the world trying our best to just fit in. To not rock the boat. To not be too much.
When our insides are crying out to fit in. To be wanted. To be noticed. To be loved.
There is a man in our town. He's homeless. He lives in his van.
I wasn't sure for a while if he was homeless because he wore nicer clothes. Sometimes even his shirt was tucked in. His body and hair clean and no sign of dirty.
Perhaps, like us, he wants to fit in too.
My husband and I started up a conversation with him one day. He told us he lived in his van. Our suspicions were confirmed. But, I was still confused. He looked so.....normal.
When he told me his name, I almost fell to my knees. His name is David.
Of course, David is my all time favorite Old Testament man. David stole my heart in
If his name had been anything other than David, I may have easily forgotten it.
I have talked to him several times since that day we met, and something he told me recently has been weighing so heavy on my heart.
I asked him how his Thanksgiving was. He replied: "Just another day."
I had to choke back tears.
This man had no big lunch or dinner with family. He did the same thing he does every day. He sat in his van. He walked around town. Then, went back to his van to sleep for the night.
Just another day...
Have you ever felt that way?
Like, each day is just another day. Just another dish to wash. Just another bill to pay. Just another diaper to change. Just another day without a significant other. Just another day of being unnoticed. Just another day of a job that wears you slap out. Just another day at the hospital begging God to heal your loved one.
Just another day.
I remember a few years ago, some friends and I served dinner at a homeless shelter. That night, I went back home and told my husband, "I feel so at home among the homeless."
He looked at me like I was crazy. Perhaps, I was.
But, I think deep down....we can all relate at times to the feeling of being homeless. Lonely. Outcast. Forgotten. Left out. Misfit. Longing for home.
There's no need for show when you are around the homeless. No need for prettying up, or shining your shoes. You can be yourself and fit right in with the homeless. Perhaps that's why I like it.
I imagine this is how the Disciples felt around Jesus. They could be themselves. Jesus loved them anyway. They could take off their masks and fall to His feet breathing a sigh of relief. They knew Jesus loved them despite their countless flaws.
As I read the book of Matthew, again...
I imagine how Jesus must have longed for His Heavenly home.
This Earth was not His home.
Nor, is it ours.
There will be a day...
Oh, one sweet day...
When we can rest our weary heads in the Mansion of our Father.
We will fit in. All of us.
No one will be homeless. No one will be lonely. No one will be cast out.
There is more than enough room in my Father's home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? John 14:2
come as you are,