Like church, home is created by the people, not the space.
My family threw an anniversary party for my grandparents last month. For awhile my brother and I shuffled through the throng of attendees, looking lost as we searched for the family were instructed to recognize, greet, and allow to pet us. Deciding we had failed, and must be really crappy relatives, we returned to our dad. My brother, now fifteen and very much growing into one of my favorite people in the world, turned to him and said, "Who the hell are these people, and how are we related?" Laughing, dad responded, "Family hasn't shown up yet. These are all of their friends they met when they RV'd across America for a year."
My grandparents on my dad's side always amazed me. They never stayed put for long, but wherever they were they built astounding community, and in the two houses I've been around to go visit them in, they have always filled them with a strong spirit of love and security.
I'm still trying to figure out their trick. Maybe it's their disregard for pomp and circumstance. Maybe it's grandpa's stories. Maybe it's grandma's laughter. Maybe it's their lack of Ikea catalogs. Whatever it is, I wish I could bottle it, and pour it over every place I live, and invite everyone I meet in. I want to do life with people, traveling, just like they did, not just to make myself interesting, but to become even more interested in people, and just start to grasp onto what about us God loves so damn much.
I love children, because they're so brilliantly transparent. They love without fear or condition, and demand love because they know that, no matter what, it's needed. I lost my zeal for people this summer. Big people, I mean. Too much calculation, too many hurdles. I began to forget what it was to love without an audience, without authority, without stipulation. I forgot the truth about my existence, and could only think about what I should look like to others.
All I can say is, never again. They're right (whomever the ominous "They" are). Home is where the heart is. And my heart has found its way again. Back to all of you.
My family threw an anniversary party for my grandparents last month. For awhile my brother and I shuffled through the throng of attendees, looking lost as we searched for the family were instructed to recognize, greet, and allow to pet us. Deciding we had failed, and must be really crappy relatives, we returned to our dad. My brother, now fifteen and very much growing into one of my favorite people in the world, turned to him and said, "Who the hell are these people, and how are we related?" Laughing, dad responded, "Family hasn't shown up yet. These are all of their friends they met when they RV'd across America for a year."
My grandparents on my dad's side always amazed me. They never stayed put for long, but wherever they were they built astounding community, and in the two houses I've been around to go visit them in, they have always filled them with a strong spirit of love and security.
I'm still trying to figure out their trick. Maybe it's their disregard for pomp and circumstance. Maybe it's grandpa's stories. Maybe it's grandma's laughter. Maybe it's their lack of Ikea catalogs. Whatever it is, I wish I could bottle it, and pour it over every place I live, and invite everyone I meet in. I want to do life with people, traveling, just like they did, not just to make myself interesting, but to become even more interested in people, and just start to grasp onto what about us God loves so damn much.
I love children, because they're so brilliantly transparent. They love without fear or condition, and demand love because they know that, no matter what, it's needed. I lost my zeal for people this summer. Big people, I mean. Too much calculation, too many hurdles. I began to forget what it was to love without an audience, without authority, without stipulation. I forgot the truth about my existence, and could only think about what I should look like to others.
All I can say is, never again. They're right (whomever the ominous "They" are). Home is where the heart is. And my heart has found its way again. Back to all of you.
