Aching for home

aching for a home


I wonder if Christ ever ached for home. 
 
I don't mean His heavenly home, though I believe He probably ached for heaven often. 
 
But a dwelling place to settle in. 
 
I don't know what the first years of His life looked like. Or even the majority. Maybe he lived in one place for a majority of that time. 
 
But during those years of ministry, He didn't seem to get to have a home. 
 
He was on the go. Traveling from town to town, resting with strangers. 
 
He ate with sinners which must have been exhausting. 
 
Christ rested on boats and prayed among the trees
 
I rest in a bed and pray on my floor. 
 
One of the things I was most excited about for this new year was my new home. It's so fun to get to turn a dwelling place into a home.

I've been working for months to reconcile "don't store up for yourself treasures on earth" with the tangible ache I felt after putting most of my things in storage back in September.
 
I haven't come up with a reconciliation. 
 
I missed my couch. My dishes. My bed. 
 
I was filled with joy as I opened up each box.
 
I'm looking forward with genuine anticipation to hanging things on walls again. 
 
So as I would lay awake at night missing my things and feeling a little bit empty having lived in one room for three months - I felt like Jesus maybe understood my emotions. 
 
He understands my aches. 
 
My understanding of the aches He went through is limited - but I think His understanding of my ache is real.