I can't believe it's nearly the end of summer! It's so lovely to have Viriditas back in my inbox, and I can't wait for your autumn series.
For what has felt like quite a hard summer, there have been some bright spots that have kept me going through frustration, homesickness, and a difficult time for my family: a caravan holiday with my parents involving a lot of good wine, a dear friend's long-awaiting (COVID-cancelled!) wedding, sharing the joy and excitement of another dear friend's first pregnancy, swimming in the sea and digging in the sand.
Home. This word resonates deeply with me in this season, because my family is completing an enormous renovation project on a home we purchased over a year ago, and had been dreaming about for several years. The process of dreaming up a forever home and pursuing it, putting in the work, and seeing that dream become a reality, has brought with it some unexpected, yet welcome, tension in my spirit. Before we began the project in the spring, I began to sift through some thoughts around building “a dream home” in light of knowing that this world and this home are temporary dwellings as we wait with expectation for our eternal dwelling place. The internal battle was fierce at times. What would this project fulfill and accomplish for me? For my family? What other unfulfilled dreams might this project help to accomplish? Does this project line up with the lifestyle we feel led to live? I could answer many questions that arose, but several required a wrestling, or the answer that I gave it didn’t feel sufficient. None of the questions were touching the practical planning involved. Unsurprising in light of my natural bent towards the depth of all things, what I was wrestling with was, I believe, a search for a “theology of home”.
We are nearing the end of our project, preparing to move into our home, and how I feel about being in our new space is starkly different than how I felt living in its pre-renovated state. I have been noticing and naming the fact that our pre-renovated home (we moved in and lived in it for 1 year before deconstruction) was not my home. It housed our furniture and our “stuff” for a year, but nothing about the house itself ever felt like it was mine. All I could see was what I wanted it to become. It actually felt very difficult for me to invite people into that home. While hospitality ought to be more about the fellowship than the environment, it felt incomplete somehow, like I was sharing myself but that there was something else I wanted to share (provide) that I couldn’t. I made the best of it and humbly hosted people, but it was always with a longing to share an environment that actually meant something to me. I definitely notice an energetic excitement within me now to host people in a space that feels like mine!
I’m curious to explore this subject with you, friend, because I feel deeply connected to the depth of meaning in the concept of “home”.
I can't believe it's nearly the end of summer! It's so lovely to have Viriditas back in my inbox, and I can't wait for your autumn series.
For what has felt like quite a hard summer, there have been some bright spots that have kept me going through frustration, homesickness, and a difficult time for my family: a caravan holiday with my parents involving a lot of good wine, a dear friend's long-awaiting (COVID-cancelled!) wedding, sharing the joy and excitement of another dear friend's first pregnancy, swimming in the sea and digging in the sand.
Home. This word resonates deeply with me in this season, because my family is completing an enormous renovation project on a home we purchased over a year ago, and had been dreaming about for several years. The process of dreaming up a forever home and pursuing it, putting in the work, and seeing that dream become a reality, has brought with it some unexpected, yet welcome, tension in my spirit. Before we began the project in the spring, I began to sift through some thoughts around building “a dream home” in light of knowing that this world and this home are temporary dwellings as we wait with expectation for our eternal dwelling place. The internal battle was fierce at times. What would this project fulfill and accomplish for me? For my family? What other unfulfilled dreams might this project help to accomplish? Does this project line up with the lifestyle we feel led to live? I could answer many questions that arose, but several required a wrestling, or the answer that I gave it didn’t feel sufficient. None of the questions were touching the practical planning involved. Unsurprising in light of my natural bent towards the depth of all things, what I was wrestling with was, I believe, a search for a “theology of home”.
We are nearing the end of our project, preparing to move into our home, and how I feel about being in our new space is starkly different than how I felt living in its pre-renovated state. I have been noticing and naming the fact that our pre-renovated home (we moved in and lived in it for 1 year before deconstruction) was not my home. It housed our furniture and our “stuff” for a year, but nothing about the house itself ever felt like it was mine. All I could see was what I wanted it to become. It actually felt very difficult for me to invite people into that home. While hospitality ought to be more about the fellowship than the environment, it felt incomplete somehow, like I was sharing myself but that there was something else I wanted to share (provide) that I couldn’t. I made the best of it and humbly hosted people, but it was always with a longing to share an environment that actually meant something to me. I definitely notice an energetic excitement within me now to host people in a space that feels like mine!
I’m curious to explore this subject with you, friend, because I feel deeply connected to the depth of meaning in the concept of “home”.