THIS WORLD IS NOT MY HOME…
This old camp meeting song speaks to me and always has. I hum it when faced with life-altering situations, like flying through clouds using the instruments in the airplane that my husband is piloting. I hum it when faced with life-altering decisions, like whether to put down roots by buying a property when we do, in fact have the wherewithal to do so, or continuing to wander about in our travel trailer, visiting friends, relatives, making new friends, seeing new sunsets. I hum it when friends are at the point of death and there isn’t really anything that I can do to help them but pray for a peaceful passing and strength for their family.
To live one day at a time with no long view, no plans for next week, next month, next year is a mind altering scenario and is definitely NOT the way that this world operates. Even religious periodicals are selling calendars for NEXT YEAR with Scriptures for each month, each week, each day. How does this correlate with the thought that this world is NOT my HOME? Where are our responsibilities as Christians? What do we need to do for the sake of our families? How can we balance our needs with the needs of others not knowing how LONG we will be treading this sod? Do we sell all we have and give it to the poor? Do we render unto this world the things of this world while giving to GOD the things that are HIS? AND WHAT, PRE-TELL DOESN’T BELONG TO GOD?
Do we open our hearts or just our purses, do we give of our time, talents and gifts AND TO WHOM? Organized religious entities or the beggar on the corner? How do we judge when Scripture clearly says “as we judge, so will we be judged!” It ‘tis a conundrum for sure. To plan or Not to plan? To give or Not to give? To judge or Not to judge?
Our parents generation was INTO LAND! I remember taking Tom’s parents on a trip to Yellowstone National Park one Fall. I had no idea that their “plan” was not the same as “our” plan until Mom asked if we could stop at the Courthouse in Craig Colorado, she had a question for the Recorder’s Office. She wanted to get directions to the homestead where they lived BEFORE she had started school, or possibly summers only once she was in school. We are still talking over fifty years in the past!! We dutifully drove out the dirt road and I asked what we were looking for - a foundation, a chimney, a building of some kind?
“No,” said Tom’s Mom, “just the land.” Then how will we know when we find it? I asked.
“I will know.” said Mom. And she did in fact point to the gully where they went for a bucket of water daily, but the homestead was on the other side of that gulley.
Then we proceeded to the Grand Tetons, what an awesome site that is. The sky was clear, the peaks still had a bit of snow in the crevasses. They were reflected in all their majesty on the lake and even the birds were enjoying the lovely day in the Rocky Mountains.
The tour around one of the loops in Yellowstone National Park was not as crowded as I remembered it from my childhood, of course we had been there in the summer and it was now into Fall. The Old Faithful geyser did its faithful thing and erupted within a minute or two of the anticipated time. Then we were on to the overlook for the FALLS. “Look at all the yellow rocks!” Mom exclaimed. It was an eye opening experience for her; we had seen the Falls from an airplane a couple of times so we knew where Yellowstone got the NAME. We exited the Park on the Tower Junction road up a multi-level pass where we exclaimed about the wildflowers; it was a HIGH PASS and the summer flowers were still in bloom! We thought we were over the top; no altitude app on our cell phones – we did not even have cell phones at that time! So when we topped out, there was another level yet to go, more wildflowers to marvel at, more curves and corners to explore. And another thought entered into the front seat conversation where the two Toms were sitting.
“Do you want to see where I was born?” asked Tom’s dad. “We have found it twice, I am sure we can find it again. And it is right on the way!” I had thought that only MY PARENTS used this line of reasoning.
So we found Epsie Montana, population ZERO, but before you get to Broaddis. This time there was a log cabin with an attic and the school a quarter mile away that Tom’s brother Chet had attended! Tom’s dad was still too young for school and the twins had just been born there in that cabin of Great Grandpa. They had been kept warm in an apple crate on the door of the oven Dad said. It was again, the land that was the important thing.
When we were on the road last year we stopped for a couple of nights at a creekside campground in Belle Forsch South Dakota, and our neighbor mentioned that they were going over to Broaddis for a funeral the next day, someone he had attended high school with and had maintained a correspondence with after he married a girl from Belle Forsch. We actually knew where Broaddis was!!
LAND to have and to hold as long as possible? OR to have HOME be where you park it?
This World is not my home, I’m just a passin’ through,
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue,
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.
