I have a home

You know that song... "I get knocked down, I get up again. You're never gonna keep me down"... You know it? You singing it? Good.

 

"I get knocked down, I get up a again..." You dancing? Stop.

So this song popped in my head this week. Over the past 2 years, my heart has been tested and trained and shaped and molded. There are many positive changes over these 2 years. One has been the lack of materialism and consuming thoughts, ideas, and things. I have felt free not to get consumed with keeping up with folks. Not that I was conscious I was doing that before. But during these homeless years there has been a freedom associated with all kinds of random events, holidays, things, etc. Certain things I would never dream of not doing in the past, I'm take it or leave it now. I don't get consumed by them like I did. I noticed this our first Christmas after moving. Christmas cards did not have me stressed (in a good, oh I want them to be so perfect way). I did do them but at the very last minute and didn't plan and inspect every inch of the card. This example seems so petty. But that's the point. Little things like Christmas cards and planned birthday parties I am now free from.

I chalk it up to the big picture. Before we moved ALL I could think about was Anne Walker not having her first Christmas in her house. Really. I was consumed with the thought of my picture memories not being perfect. Not being posed by my tree, in my living room, with my decorations on a day that she doesn't even know existed. I can say I have freedom from these ideas of perfection. I have to constantly check myself. I can feel it when I'm getting consumed with the idea of a house or material driven changes. I have to slow myself down and reorient my thoughts. If I don't, God will. 

Its not that I think God is knocking my down again (like the song). He's not. But Satan is. If he can wrap all my thoughts in a tight, twisted, wound up ball, I'm no longer free. And that's what he wants. It's crazy that I don't even know what stuff I have in storage. I have forgotten most everything. I'm not worried about the perfect pottery piece to serve my prepared dish on. I don't miss it. I do miss organization. But the things have drifted. I am honestly a little worried about making the transition back in a couple of months. Not sure how I will do that. Getting all my stuff out. I do get excited about little things like wreaths on the door and a holiday floor mat. Maybe I'll still have to take it slow and constantly test my intentions against perfection.

So this week was one where we had problems with the house and my mind morphed into a twisted up fishing line. It was almost impossible to undo. In the midst of the rainstorm. I was tucking Gaines in that night. He confessed that he was a little scared during those tornado warnings at school. He prayed to God about being scared but he was still scared afterwards. He was also worried about his family and our house. What would the storm do? I told him that sometimes our fear doesn't go away immediately, but we have to be honest with God; tell him that, and continue to pray. I reminded him that our family will always be together as long as we all believe in Jesus and get baptized. As to the house, we were both reminded that we already have a home. Wherever Mama, Daddy, Gaines and Anne Walker are is our home. The house is just a structure. We have a home now, and we will always have a home - wherever we are.

We will get knocked down again, but none of the stuff matters. We have a home. We will always have a home.