This afternoon we got back to our mountain home. We have watched the scenery whizzing by the car turn from tall green trees and dark forests to open farmland, to Texas-sized trees (the only thing in Texas NOT big,) to bushes and grassland, to Chihuahuan Desert and then to the high desert grass and scrub oak that punctuates our windows. It’s good to be home. It was good to be away, for sure. We enjoyed seeing family, the break in the routine, and the new vistas, but now we’re back to what is “ours.”
They say that home is where the heart is. Jesus said, “your treasure is where your heart is.” Home is more than just where you store your stuff. It’s where you hold responsibility bravely. What you treasure will cost you something, or it is not a treasure, and one of the costs is responsibility. Upon arriving home we pick up once again the tasks that are ours here, including mending the broken peach tree branch and mowing an overgrown lawn and harvesting a burgeoning garden.
It also includes being who we are in our community, bearing our half of our relationships, and working with others to make our world more just, more loving and more beautiful. The edges of my “home” are fuzzy, blurring into my neighborhood, my town, my county, state, country and planet–and who knows, maybe even beyond. Lessening amounts of responsibility mark ever-expanding rings of relationships. But can I ever say, “that is Not part of my home?” God asked of the murderous Cain, “Where is your brother?” and Cain answered with the quintessential retort, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
If this world is to be our home the answer must be a resounding “Yes!”