I’m surrounded by chaos and cardboard right now. We’re in the process of moving, and I hate it. I hate the boxes, the packing, and the month of freefall between “Your house is under contract and maybe, probably sold… but maybe not.” I hate splitting time between where we’re at and where we’re going. I hate it even more because I know it’s temporary. There’s nothing wrong with the house we’re moving into. It is warm, dry, the kitchen is big, and my daughters will have a playroom. The issue isn’t the house – it’s my heart. You see, my heart is set on the house we’ll be building – on getting home, not getting to a house. For the last seven years, I’ve been standing in my spot, imagining my front porch, picturing my sunrise view. I’ve dreamt it, but I’m not there yet. I’m stuck in the in-between. Here’s the problem – I’ll do a lot of living in the in-between. My wife and I will kiss on another New Year’s Eve. My daughters will have birthday parties. We will laugh and cry and change and grow in the in-between, and I’m running the risk of overlooking everything that happens there because I’m looking toward home.
All of us are living with some version of this ache. You feel it too – looking forward to what’s next because you’re struggling with the imperfection of what is. Christians feel this in a particular way, because we’re taught that Jesus is preparing a home that is completely safe and peaceful, where we are perfectly loved and accepted. That means we aren’t home, and that what is to come is far, far better than where we are. Here’s the problem I’m pondering among the boxes: how should we live when home is promised, but we’re not there yet? How do we live in the moment while we’re longing for the everlasting?
In the book of Jeremiah, the Israelites struggled with this idea in a much more visceral, tragic way than I do. The Promised Land that God had given them was conquered and decimated by a foreign empire, the Babylonians. Many Israelites had been taken as exiles to a completely foreign reality. They had been ripped from their homes, separated from their families, had their identity as chosen people shattered, and were tempted to give up because they were stuck in their own in-between as captives. So, through Jeremiah, God gave them a very clear message:
“Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the LORD for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.”- Jeremiah 29:5-7 (NIV)
Notice what God didn’t say. He didn’t tell them to forget where they had been, His promises, or where they were headed. He also didn’t tell them that exile was the final chapter in their story. What He did say was jarring: don’t treat exile as wasted time. That is still God’s instruction for anyone living in the in-between: don’t waste where you are simply because it isn’t where you want to be.
God wastes nothing. He wants to use you where you are – even if you are desperate to leave. I sympathize with wanting to leave a neighborhood where you don’t feel you belong, but your deeper commitment to learning names and lingering on porches can be a surprisinglypowerful display of God’s love.
I understand wanting to leave your current job, but God may want to use you right where you are for as long as you are there.
Maybe you’re ready to walk away from a church that is struggling through conflict, but forgiveness and reconciliation might be the most vivid image of your faith possible. Don’t delay obedience until your situation is ideal.
God shows us one more thing from Israel’s time in the in-between. Exile was not the goal of God’s plan. The Israelites were in the in-between; they weren’t home. None of us are living in an ideal situation. We live in a world of illness, debt, upheaval, addiction, and death. Even in the best of circumstances, this life will leave us frustrated and disappointed. It isn’t home. Christ left his home so that we would have a way back to ours. He was rejected and crucified so that we could be welcomed and at peace in the presence of God forever. Ultimately, home is our presence with Christ in His restored creation. Until then, we invest and live faithfully in the imperfect, in-between reality we’re in.
I’m called to be intentionally present in this in-between season; to talk with neighbors on a fall evening, open presents this Christmas, and watch my girls blow out the candles on their next couple of birthday cakes. Here’s another thing I know for sure: when I finally walk into thathouse we’ve planned and researched and ached for, I’ll still feel restless for home. That’s okay. I can love it anyway. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the packing tape and bubble wrap.
-by Jamie Bennett – Discipleship Pastor
River Lake Church
Relevant | Simple | Real
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