This Fall, after a decade of living in the United States, I had the good fortune to return for a few weeks to my parents’ place in my hometown, Satu Mare (Romania).
On the one hand, it has been an experience of stepping outside my present reality – the “hamster-wheel” mode of the otherwise important work-family routine – to get a fresh perspective upon life. On the other hand, it has been an opportunity to reconnect with my personal past (people, places, memories) to better understand the mysterious “who am I” in this season of life.
It was no new news that everyone got a decade older, including myself. I became intensely aware that my grandparents’ generation was no longer with us and that aside from the dear old pictures and personal memories, their presence here on earth was marked only by their tombstone. My thoughts went to my parents’ generation, who would eventually come next, and what will become of my “old home” after their departure.
The immigration experience represents people’s search for a new home in hopes for a better life. Often what happens is that first generation immigrants end up living in two worlds, an almost schizoid experience – old country/new country, old home/new home – in a constant comparison between the two realities. Oddly enough, this often manifests as a longing for the first, while living in the second. This longing is often the case with natives during adult life, where people may be looking to relive or recreate the often idyllic childhood experience of “home”.
But there comes a time when one really starts to wonder where this home is really located. Is it in the people, places, or memories? Is it inside or outside ourselves? Is it in the past, present, or future? Could it be on this planet or another? Ultimately, is it in this life or the next?
Well, for non-believers, life is a journey from birth to death. For believers, it is a pilgrimage from earth to heaven. If we look in the Bible for some guidance, God is our home (Psalm 90:1), and our citizenship is in heaven (Philippians 3:20). Location-wise, heaven is our real home (once we leave everything material behind, including our bodies), yet heaven begins right here on earth.
In addition, as Jesus pointed out, the kingdom of God is within us (Luke 17:21), therefore not an external place, but a world we can access from within, no matter where we are. And if we keep in mind that God is with us always (Mathew 28:20), even when we get lost or spiritually disoriented, then all we need is a sign for an infusion of hope to get triggered, courage enkindled, and new perspectives to open.
Okay, then why don’t I experience consolation knowing this? Phillip Phillips’ song and lyrics came to mind, reminding me of all times I had heard this song and hung onto these words in the past decade, as if it was uttered by a divine, soothing voice during times of challenges and distress:
Hold on to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you’re not alone
‘Cause I’m gonna make this place your home.
And then it made sense. Home is indeed where your mind, body and heart are. Essentially, home is where you are… connected with God. Whether with people or alone, in this country or the other, home is connection with the divine.
This sign was the realization that our lives are in many ways a gift and an opportunity to pass on the gift to others. To accept and be grateful for who we are and whose we are, to let go of our (im)perfect past, to be immersed in the present and to look forward with hope to the future.
This being said, I wonder what your “home” is like…