Kristen Grossman Prose

This past weekend, I traveled to Chicago, just one hour away from the beloved town our family called home for six years before moving to California. In some ways, I discovered I have acclimated to California life. While the temperatures were not low by Midwestern standards (30° F), they were considerably cooler than the 70- to 80-degree temperatures I had experienced the previous week in California.

As someone who has called several different states “home” over the past five decades, the question “Where are you from?” can prove a surprisingly difficult one to answer. It took a good three years of California living to be able to confidently answer that question with, “I am from the East Bay area of San Francisco.”

With deeper questioning, however, I wonder how much of my geographical story to reveal. Does the questioner want to hear the history of my life beginning with my birth in South Dakota and traversing the United States before landing in California? Or will their eyes glaze over and their minds grow numb as they mumble, in typical California fashion, “Oh, you’re from Out East.” (For some reason that makes me giggle! I guess most everywhere in the U.S. is east of California!)

A friend of mine in Pennsylvania, a breast cancer survivor, had a plaque hanging prominently on her wall. This sign proclaimed, “Just Passing Through.” It was a reminder to her that this earthly place is not her home. She, more than many of us, was fully aware of the gift of life and how fragile that gift is. However, she also remained fully aware that the time spent here on earth is just a foretaste of the home her Savior is preparing for her.

“For this world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come.” Hebrews 13:14 (NLT)

Time did not permit me to visit my old hometown or visit with my close friends while I was in Chicago this weekend. However, I am blessed that my closest friends, despite living thousands of miles away, continue to include me in their daily lives through frequent texts and Snapchats. Furthermore, I have discovered that revisiting places from my past often leaves me feeling displaced and left out. Time keeps moving, and I no longer belong in old locales the way I once did.

At these times, I am tempted to feel anchorless in this world. I may begin to wonder where it is that I truly belong. They say, “home is where the heart is.” Yet, what does that mean for those of us who have pieces of our hearts scattered across the country or the globe?

Fortunately, I can think back on that plaque hanging on my sweet friend’s wall, “Just Passing Through.” I have been blessed to live in some beautiful areas of the country, and I have met wonderful friends along the way. But I have yet to experience and dwell in my true home, where I will live forever with my beautiful Savior. And the best part? That home is available to all who believe in Jesus Christ and accept his incredible gift of salvation.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.” John 14:1-6 (NIV)

Dear Lord, thank you for the beautiful tastes of home we receive here on earth. And thank you that we can look forward to an even better home one day with You. Amen.

Congratulations to Jackie Baldi, the winner of “My Prayer Journal: A 3 Month Guide to Prayer, Praise & Thanks (comment left: 2020/02/26 at 3:48 pm) I hope you will enjoy this journal as much as I do!