The birds swoop down toward me. Splattered mud of last year’s temporary nest still stains the corner under the roof of our patio. We’ve tried to deter them. A long rope of brass bells from India hangs from a nail nearby. I watch them pull at the strands of the rope. Loudly protesting this intrusion.
They try a new location. In the opposite corner. Instinct rules and they will not be stopped. We pile something in this new spot. Our attempt at a scarecrow. We wait to see whether they’ll leave for another place.
They’re obnoxious. All the chattering and swooping makes the back patio an unpleasant experience. But I know it’s how they’re wired. It’s time for nest making. Go home.
Temporary nest
The birds of the air have their nests. And I have a nest. The latest in a long series of temporary nests.
In the midst of change, I swoop in and try to form a haven for our family. I long for one consistent corner of familiar. So the interior designer in me goes to work. Organizing. Placing. Rearranging.
But we cross oceans and borders and cultures. And the nest is never the same.
Temporary stuff
The first time we moved overseas, we sold most of our earthly belongings and traveled there with suitcases and trunks. It was a lesson in surrender. An exercise in trust. After we arrived in Karachi, I watched how the Lord provided what we needed and more.
Then we moved again. And again.
A simple exercise has helped me in the midst of change and upheaval. Last year I practiced it again as we moved across the ocean back to America.
First, I open my hands before the Lord and acknowledge that all of these material things in our home belong to Him.
I know my tendency to hold on to stuff. And my tendency to be overwhelmed in the throes of packing. So I need this practice of surrender. Release.
Second, I ask for wisdom about what to give away, what to sell, what to pack. And the purging begins.
Open hands
It’s surprising what has come with us through the years. I don’t want to take it for granted.
Every morning I sit at my writing desk. It’s been my morning spot in six countries now. An “unnecessary” piece of furniture–but a sweetly personal gift to me from the Lord.
I am deeply grateful. With open hands.
When our daughter Becca first came to visit us in Malaysia, she walked into the living room and immediately sat down in a rocking chair. Not just any rocking chair. Beautiful rosewood, carved and polished in Pakistan. I sat in this chair and rocked each of our babies. It was one of the first things we bought after landing in Karachi.
That afternoon in Malaysia, Becca rocked and said,“I’m home.” Never mind the different house, different setting, different country. There were a lot of memories and “home” wrapped up in that rocker. Familiar comfort in the midst of the temporary.
I am deeply grateful. With open hands.
Divine perspective
Jesus mentioned the nests of birds when He said: “The Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” While on earth, He lay His head in various places, including boats on the stormy sea of Galilee. And at home in Capernaum. We know He enjoyed visits with Mary, Martha, and Lazarus in Bethany. Familiar comfort in the midst of the temporary.
But Jesus walked in the confining elements of time and space with an experienced view of eternity. A divine perspective. And He prepared His disciples for what they would face as they followed their Lord and Savior.
Longing for Home
No matter how many years they lived on this earth, the disciples walked by faith knowing the earthly nest does not last. Their hearts were set on the unchanging Home ahead of them. In the city with foundations whose architect and builder is God. (Hebrews 11:10)
My longing for a corner of familiar is much more than a desire for a place to live and certain furnishings. This hunger for home and permanence is a longing for our true Home.
Meanwhile, we abide in Christ through prayer and the Word. We wait on the Lord and walk in His ways. We plant our lives in an ever-changing nest.
With grateful hearts. And open hands.
What about you?
What makes a place “home” for you. Have you struggled with holding on to the familiar? What has the Lord taught you in the temporary home?
Related post: Tents and altars
20 replies on “Temporary nest”
This was so good. I love your writing. We miss you and your family here in Malaysia.
Thank you, Denise. Those were special years for our family there!
So good Susan. My husband’s family served in Malaysia in the 60’s!
Thanks, Lesley! Has your husband ever been back to visit? We loved living there😊
You clearly articulated the struggle of nesting that many of us constantly battle. Thank you for the encouragement this morning and the reminder of our true Home.
Thanks, my friend. You know this life of temporary nests so well.
Let it go with open hands, making a home, a sanctuary is so important. My prayers for you and Todd as you continue making home one more time…much love dear friend!
Yes! Thank you, dear sister.
Susan, I think I counted 35 places we’ve called home since our marriage 65 years ago! We’ve owned none of them. Sometimes it was a challenge to turn a house into a home. Each one is embedded in our memories. Each one a sanctuary, an oasis and we loved our homes. Around us are some of those treasures we moved from place to place, always comforting as we adjusted to the new. All a joyous part of our journey. But now. We’ve downsized and don’t plan to house hunt again. There is no need; as it is written, “I go to prepare a place for you…” And there are treasures, too. The temporary will become permanent. Thanks be to God for His faithfulness.
Bettie, I remember very well the oasis of your home when we arrived in Karachi! And the stories of how you took what you had in the Sindh and made a home of beauty, a haven. Grace to you, my friend. Yes, thanks be to God!
Susan, how sweet to read your words. I am one who was at TBC when you were there in CA. In one of those years I moved into a new apartment and received a housewarming gift from a boss. The enclosed card said this – “To the traveler, the wanderer, who makes every place a home.” I loved the observation and thought a lot then about just what home might mean. Four years ago, with open hands and grateful hearts my husband and I sold the house where we’d lived together for 8 years and downsized by about 90%. We live “nomadically”, delivering RVs and trucks, roaming across the US and Canada. We are free to stop and visit folks, free to help care for our parents, free to drink in beauty at every turn. And in this season of nestlessness we find God stories all around us.
Thank you for sharing your story! I love this. And my husband asks, how did you get a job like that😊. Someday…😁
This proves the saying, “home is where the heart is” doesn’t it?
Thank you, Susan. This is a great post with so many things I need to be reminded of in this life of continual transition. I brought our wedding flatware to Asia. I figured there was no need for it to stay in an attic until I might get it out years down the road. I am raising my family in Asia, according to God’s plan for us now, and we eat of flatware given to us for our wedding. I have family photos up on the walls. I have the special rocking chair that doesn’t really go with our home anymore but I can’t bear to part with it. All my children have been rocked in this Christmas market find in Bangladesh. It could all go away tomorrow but I have peace if I lose it knowing I have lived in the moment and planted our family wherever the Lord has led.
Living in the moment and planting wherever He leads—-yes! Thanks for sharing your story with us 😊
So many nests, so many homes. I often think of this and the verse in Hebrews about living in tents and waiting for the city of God. We are looking for permanence. I’ve also thought a lot about home and what that means. Less and less of my stuff comes with me now when I move to new place. Here, I try to bring a few knick knacks with me from place to place. I also have the same dishes that make me think of home. At Mom & Dad’s house, it’s seeing the buffet, the marble table, the round dining room table, the house decorations that make it home. Also the people…and experience you have in that place. But so many of my homes are not available to go back to, so pieces of my heart get caught in places that are no longer there.
Thanks for sharing, Jul! “…But so many of my homes are not available to go back to, so pieces of my heart get caught in places that are no longer there.” Well said!!
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