How Can We Feel at Home in Seasons of Transition?

On the top of a narrow bookshelf, I have a white box engraved with the word HOME. Each letter H-O-M-E is filled with a shimmering inlaid mirror, so that in each letter my reflection glows back at me—that is, if I get close enough to peer at it. 

Over many years I’ve lived in different countries and different cities. Along the way I’ve held different roles and responsibilities. I’ve traveled with my HOME box, in and out of season, and brought it to new environments I called my own. I guess you could say that, as the box shows my reflection, the same is true of life. On some level, we can’t help but feel that HOME always has a way of reflecting back who we are. 

Sometimes my home has been full of family.  Sometimes in seasons of profound change or transition I’ve needed to move through new things, more solo than I’d like for a time. Each time I’ve had to ask God existential questions about what in the world it was that would secure me, and those I love, amidst such liminality and change. We don’t always get to hold on to the same things amid ever-changing circumstances.

Furthermore, we don’t always know what we actually rely on (or who we rely on most) to feel at home until we’ve had to truly let it go. Suddenly, in moments of transition or forced solitude, we may find ourselves staring at the stars in the dead of night and asking, “Where am I, Lord? How did I get here? How in the world will I ever truly feel at home again? 

It is in times of transition that we also more poignantly ask our surroundings to reflect our identity, for better or worse. Not all environments are a trustworthy mirror. When home becomes a place of health and flourishing, we can revel in the reflections of strength and delight. Alternatively, in seasons of loss, estrangement, or unmet longing, we may hear the enemy’s voice trying to tell us it’s our own unworthiness that is to blame for what home is (or is not).

“If we were better at this, that, or the other thing, then… ____.” We fill in the blanks with whatever it is that the latest shame monsters on the block want us most entrapped by. 

It’s at this point in my reflection that I could slip into cliches or quick fixes. But these are rarely helpful, so I have often answered those who asked me which ingredient would help them discern how God is directing them in times of transition with one word: ANGUISH. Not exactly the answer they were looking for!

An Invitation to Suffer

By this, I simply mean there are times when finding home includes a season of wrestling we’d rather skip. But it may be that this unavoidable time of anguish is precisely where the Father’s love invites us to live for a while. Perhaps it is where he will meet us, ready to speak into our hearts the things we’d otherwise never get to hear. We may be called to move through it—not easy, not a quick fix—but a divine appointment that is meant to be ours.

In recent years I’ve had the joy of mentoring many young women. Our coaching calls always include topics of growth and vocational calling. Something that has come up often is the realization that some of the most difficult obstacles in life are invisible to those around us. For example, say the false belief of unworthiness moves through your inner world like a villain, tucked in an invisibility cloak of sorts, accompanying you through life. This belief, and others, become part of both your daily routines and special events, never acknowledged or required to pay admission fees. 

One incredible human I’ve mentored has struggled with an invisible depression monster that lurks its head in unexpected ways. Upon its arrival, it takes what felt like a good life before and turns it all on its head. What was once buoyant and laughter-inducing becomes shaded and dark. She has helped me understand that in these bouts of despair she can simultaneously look like the most engaging of souls and also be haunted by a heaviness that threatens to isolate her and keep her reeling. 

Sojourning Together

I can’t fully explain what an honor it is to be allowed into another person’s heart. It is a sacred thing to discover with a sojourner, young or old, that in our humanness we are all searching wildly for belonging and security. We search for mirrors we can trust as we travel through changes that require a home base we can count on.

Psalm 84:10 (NLT) reads:

A single day in your courts is better than a thousand anywhere else! I would rather be a gatekeeper in the house of my God than live the good life in the homes of the wicked.

It’s moments like these that call on us to discover our home in Christ as one that remains unchanging. In his grace, we are sometimes gifted fellow sojourners on our way, helping us mirror Christ and reminding us where home is.

This home, where we draw ever closer to our Lord's loving presence, is of paramount value. It is here where we more fully discover who he is in us and thereby can see our own worth reflected most brilliantly back to us.  

This HOME is something that can never be taken from us. Christ makes a way for us to come to the Father’s courts, humble and grateful for just one more day with him. Regardless of what he calls us to let go of, it is always (and forever) better than a thousand elsewhere.