There’s No Place Like Home

Photo property of Stephanie McKeever

Remember when I sang that stinkin’ Hillsong United Oceans song about trust without borders, blah, blah, blah? Ugh. I’m telling you right now, think twice before singing these things. God takes this very seriously. My borders were expanded into the deep waters again this week. No, I didn’t get to share the love of Jesus beachside where only the other half goes on holiday (that’s how the other half says vacation, isn’t it?). I spent the week on a new floor of our hospital; a new floor and fancy wing. I was out of my special needs comfort zone, if there is such a thing.

We have a favorite floor in our hospital. Our favorite nurses and favorite doctors are here. The patient care techs and custodians are like family on this floor. They hug us. Some of them pray for us. After the past year and a half of living in the hospital, it’s as close to home as a hospital can get. This visit wasn’t on that floor. It wasn’t like home at all. It was kindof a foreign land to us. New faces, some were wonderful and fought for us. Some, not so much. The TV was different, new ways to call for help, everything was different. No one hugged us or prayed for us. But that’s how visiting a new land with new borders goes, I guess?

So many times I want to click my heals three times like Dorothy and think to myself, “There’s no place like home.” But if I’m honest, when I’m home, beachside where the other half goes on holiday sounds pretty good. Life is demanding no matter where we go. Going out is so stressful. Staying home is lonely. The hospital is really not home. But a vacation? I can’t even think about how difficult taking all of this circus on a vacation would be. So, home is where I truly wish to be.

When I think about the Bible verses of Paul, I don’t remember when he wished for home. (Or a vacation.) Whether jailed or traversing across countries, what I remember most was he wished for others to hear the word of God; to learn of Jesus’ saving life. In Romans 1 he calls himself set apart for the gospel of God and is eager to preach the gospel to those in Rome. He can’t wait to get to this place where he knows there are those who claim to be wise and foolish, godlessness, and wickedness (Rome is starting to sound a lot like hospital life.). It’s here in this foreign place with foolish, darkened hearts where he is most unafraid of the gospel of Jesus. He can’t wait to get there. He expects a harvest of believers. Heck, you can’t drag me to therapy, IEP meetings, a (fairly swanky) hospital stay without kicking and screaming about all the torture it’s going to put me through. And there usually isn’t one word about my plan to share the gospel of Christ at these things. I’m often just wishing for home.

I want my borders expanded, my way. Sharing this love I have, the love of Jesus, is a risk. But, Jesus took that same risk, didn’t he? There was no guarantee I would say yes to his love. Yet, he risked it all for me. (from The Way of Abundance, Ann Voskamp) Seems I could risk a little bit of love, some of my special needs comfort to share the love of Jesus when He puts me in the deep waters.

{Read this and more at: Key Ministry}

Favorite Song This Week: Gracefully Broken // Matt Redman

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