Heading Home

Yup. I’m leaving home! I’m leaving the old Heading Home behind and moving into a brand, new place.

This is a new journey. One of my words for this year.

Will you celebrate with me?

Come on over and see what all the hoopla is about. I’m giving away a $100 gift card to celebrate. To be entered for the giveaway, leave a comment here or on the new site. Registration will close at midnight October 10.

I know I will probably lose followers and subscribers, but I’m praying those of you, my precious readers, will follow me over to my new home and sign up for continued service of Heading Home from the new digs. I hope you will sign up for future posts either by RSS feed or email.

There may be a hiccup or two in the transfer, so please bear with me as I get it all straightened out.

I wanted to take a little space here and tell you how much I appreciate each and every one of you. You warm my heart with your comments and by being a follower or a subscriber...or both! I praise the Lord for you all.

What I write is for you, for your encouragement on this Christian journey, this Pilgrim’s Progress, to that Eternal Home, the Celestial City.

What was your word for the year? Did you have one?

 Have you left anything old lately and moved into the new?

Come join me at the new address: lynnmosher.com




 

There once was a man who bought a lush piece of property with an old shack on it. He decided to renovate it and worked hard to fix it up, spending a lot of money in the process.

When he was almost finished, a windstorm came and blew most of it down. When the man thought he would rebuild it one more time, he sent for the inspector to check out the remains of the house.

The inspector said, “You should have called me to look at this before you wasted your time, effort, and money fixing up this old shack. I would have told you that it wasn’t worth the effort. You should have torn it down and started a new structure on a sure foundation. I wouldn’t try rebuilding this again.”

How well built is the dwelling place we give our Beloved Bridegroom? Is it built on Him, as our sure Rock-foundation? Does it come crashing down in a storm of affliction?

Paul said, “When someone becomes a Christian, he becomes a brand new person inside. He is not the same anymore. A new life has begun!” (2 Cor. 5:17 TLB) So, if the old dwelling place of our hearts is cleansed and created anew, do we keep it that way, or do we allow the winds of worry or the storms of strife to revert it back to the same ol’ rickety shack?

Here’s what I asked the Lord...

~Lord, my heart is Your home. Let’s build it together and keep it clean together.

* Clean out the closet of my hidden thoughts and throw away the trash of wrong attitudes.
* Dust behind the doors where preconceived ideas accumulate like cobwebs.
* Sweep out the corners of my heart where the soil of unwillingness piles up.
* Dig into those deep crevices of my soul where stubbornness plants its roots.
* Take down from the shelves of my mind all the negative thoughts I cling to and replace them with all Your promises that they may be readily available whenever I need them.
* Scrub down the walls littered with the graffiti of my words that have blemished Your Spirit and Your Word.
* Repair the cracks in the walls so that the enemy cannot ooze in with his unwanted ideas.
* Fix the holes in the roof where the rains of difficulties leak in and threaten to dampen my soul-rest.
* Seal up the broken windows where the winds of discontent blow in so easily.
* Clean out the soot of wrong burning desires that have blackened my chimney and allow the vapors of praise to rise heavenward.
* Rekindle the embers of my heart’s passion that have grown cold.
* Use my tears to mop the floor of my soul where it has been trampled upon with the muddy feet of those who would rather walk over me than to see the hurt and pain within me.
* Shine Your light into the dark cellar of my emotions so nothing can remain hidden from Your forgiveness.
* Help me erect that exterior that holds all else in place, as I use my obedience to cement Your bricks of truth in place. May I not leave them lying useless on the ground.
* Help me build on the one sure Foundation that is unshakable and can withstand all storms and disasters.

Lord, may my heart always be a temple in which You may reside and always feel proud to bring others to visit. May it be a monument to Your grace, Your forgiveness, and Your love.~~

What kind of home are you building for your precious Lord? Do you schedule regular maintenance projects? Do you allow the Master Craftsman to construct according to His divine plan?

“Unless the Lord builds a house, the work of the builders is wasted.” (Ps. 127:1 NLT)

In a single moment, a little boy’s world turned upside down; his life’s journey interrupted, taking a drastic detour.

Many years ago, an accident on a slippery, wet road ended the lives of a young couple while their young son was only shaken and bruised. A frightened Max went to live with an aunt who had never married and knew little of taking care of children, let alone a seven year-old boy.

Aunt Sylvia lived on several acres surrounded by woods with a creek meandering through it. Max quickly learned to love it and thought it magical. Room to run, yell, chase animals, climb trees, and catch frogs from the stream. A great place to bring the friends he would soon make.

Aunt Sylvy, as Max called her, loved making up stories to pique Max’s imagination. Her best stories came from the Bible as she taught Max about God and His love.

Over the years, Max learned to love Aunt Sylvy as if she were his own mother. The two of them always made the best of each circumstance and prayed over each one.

Max’s tour through his teen years collided with the normal bumps in the road. But because of Max’s hard work and good study habits, and Aunt Sylvy’s encouragement, he received many honors throughout his high school years.

One day, a decision halted his journey: which college to attend. He could not imagine leaving Aunt Sylvy and the cabin in the woods, so he chose a college close to home.

After graduation came another dilemma: which job offer to take. Max chose the job on the other side of the country due to Aunt Sylvy’s insistence. So, when the day came for him to leave, she sent him off with her best wishes, a hug, a sack of sandwiches, a bag full of money, and a prayer.

As the years passed, Max tried to return to the cabin in the woods as often as he could.

One day, Max received a phone call from Aunt Sylvy’s neighbor telling him Aunt Sylvy was dying and called for him constantly. He told the neighbor he would be there as soon as possible.

As some business deals with deadlines needed his attention, Max decided to write a quick letter to Aunt Sylvy, just in case he didn’t make it home in time. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her and appreciated all she had done for him.

He reminisced how, on the day he arrived at the train station to live with Aunt Sylvy, she was detained from meeting him and sent her hired hand to pick him up. As darkness set in, the two of them made the journey to Max’s new home.

On the way through the forest, Max asked all kinds of questions of the hired hand, like are there any kids to play with; what is his aunt like; and will she be waiting up for him to arrive?

After all the questions were appeased, the two of them finally drove out of the forest. At a distance in the clearing sat a glowing log cabin as light streamed out of every window. And there, on the front porch under the light, was Aunt Sylvia waiting for him with open arms.

He wrote how she hugged him, gave him a warm dinner, put him to bed, prayed with him, and told him everything would be all right. He recalled how she sat up with him that night and every night thereafter until he was no longer afraid to fall asleep by himself and his tears had eased.

In an effort to comfort her as she had comforted him, he wrote that, though she may be in the dark for a while, a light will glow in the clearing. At her journey’s end, she will be welcomed with open arms by the Lord to her new home.

~The journey Home differs for each child of God. Accidents, interruptions, detours, bumps, halts, dilemmas, and questions may impede our way. The world may crowd around us as a forest and darken our outlook. But we can be assured of this: the Lord is always waiting to receive us with open arms and will bring us out into His Light.

Wherever our journey takes us, it is up to us to make the best of it. And, at the end of our journey, we will be welcomed to our new Home with the Lord.

~~From my heart to yours, “I hope to see you on my journey, and to be helped on my way there by you, if first I may enjoy your company for a while,” (Rom. 15:24b NKJV) and help you as well on your journey Home!



This post is part of the ChristianWriters.com blog chain on the topic of journey. Please check out the other participants in the sidebar on the right.

I had a dream.

Walking along a city street, I pass by houses of all types of contrasting architectures. Beautiful mansions. Humble shacks. Sweet cottages. Different shapes. Different sizes. Different appeals.

I decide to peek in some of the windows to see how the people live there. Some sit quietly by their hearths, their peaceful faces lit by the fire’s glow. The sound of fighting prevails in other residences; some families reconcile before bed and kneel together in prayer.

Joy and thankfulness fill some homes, while sadness or grief fills others. Love permeates many households, yet hate and unforgiveness abound in some.

As I move on, I see habitats in different stages of completion. Some sit abandoned. Basement foundations protrude out of the ground. Yards have building supplies of lumber, nails, and bricks laying in piles.

As I peek in more windows, I see that some dwellings stand vacant, yet occupied with all sorts of critters. Some homes are exceptionally clean while others are littered with trash. Some are clean but empty. Others appear weather-beaten and neglected.

In some homes, family members lie on sick beds, frightened. Others stand around the death bed of a loved one, in tears, yet rejoicing as that one is about to depart for heaven.

So puzzled, I ask the Lord, “What does all this mean?”

“My child,” He whispers in that gentle yet powerful inner voice, “these homes represent the hearts of My children, no matter whether they are elegant mansions or humble shacks. My children’s hearts come in all shapes, all sizes, all appeals.

“Many hearts are filled with bitterness and quarreling; some obey My Word to not let the sun go down while they are still angry.

“Many heart-homes contain sadness or grief, longing to be comforted. Some receive My comfort because they seek it; others struggle along without Me.

“Each heart lingers in some stage of completion. Some merely lay a foundation of salvation, forgetting to build on it. While others, distracted through difficult trials or busy schedules, have never built on that foundation and lack all I offer to help them get through their day. Still others abandon their foundation altogether.

“Some hearts build haphazardly on their foundation, resulting in a faulty edifice. The winds of heartache or misfortune blow upon it and the walls collapse.

“Some have allowed Me to sweep their heart-homes clean; some remain clean but empty and cold, refusing My love. While others refuse My cleansing and remain unkempt, allowing trash and irritants to move in.

“There are frightened hearts, and bodies that lie on sick beds. Death stares them in the face, but heaven would be their eternal destination if they only asked Me.

“Love, hate, unforgiveness, joy, thankfulness...so many things can fill a heart-home.

“I offer so many supplies with which a child of Mine may use to build on that foundation. I love it when My commands and My Word are laid in place with the cement of obedience, but it breaks My heart when they are left lying on the ground.

“The most precious to My heart are the heart-homes that sit in peace by the hearth, aglow with the warmth of My love, despite the storms raging outside.

“I want to continually add to each foundation, to enlarge each heart-home, as Jabez prayed, ‘Oh, that You would bless me and enlarge my border, and that Your hand might be with me, and You would keep me from evil so it might not hurt me!’ (1 Chron. 4:10 Amp)

“I would enlarge those precious hearts that seek Me and desire My presence, as Ezekiel said, ‘and the rooms became broader as they encompassed the temple higher and higher, for the encircling of the house went higher and higher round about the temple.’” (Ezek. 41:7a Amp)

Oh, that I would use the cement of obedience to build a heart-home for my Lord that would be most precious to Him, that is aglow with His love and expands as it encompasses Him more and more.

What kind of heart-home are you building for your Lord?

Have you every thought about what man’s first home looked like?

God designed an opulent home for earth’s first inhabitants, which I’ll collectively call ‘man.’ God did not assign man to a cozy bungalow or a gold-inlayed palace, but rather He placed him in a gorgeous, prolific garden - all for man’s pleasure.

Starting with the roof, God made a never-ending, sapphire canopy, arrayed with a flaming chandelier of light to warm the man and illumine his path during the day.

Through the windows of heaven blew breezes for natural air conditioning. The tree of life spread out its limbs of shade for a cool respite in the afternoon.

For man’s bedroom, a luxurious carpet of green welcomed him as the first Serta Perfect Sleeper mattress, followed by a visitation of the counting sheep! Fields, overflowing with their harvests of grains and vegetables, all begging to be picked, contained the first outdoor kitchen.

The tree branches bowed to the ground under the ample supply of succulent, ripe fruit. For man’s drinking pleasure, crystalline water gushed forth from the center of the garden, meandering around its perimeter and forming four fluent tributaries, as a continual current of bubbly refreshment.

Saturated with the plentiful riches of the earth - gold, oil, spices, and precious stones - the garden provided man with abundant wealth.

While animals provided man with amusement, only man’s mate could provide him with the warmth of companionship, the arms of comfort, and the readiness to help.

All this provided not only man’s lodging and welfare but also his own personal art gallery. God colored in the canvas of creation with a palette of yellows, reds, greens, and blues, as if painting royal robes around creation’s shoulders.

At day’s end, when twilight hovered, God drew the curtain of darkness shut, poking holes in it for the stars to sparkle through like bazillions of twinkling lights sprinkled across a drape of black velvet. Choreographed like a dance of angels with flashlights and orchestrated by the man in the moon, these nightlights lit the path to the throne of the Creator. It must have been a breathtaking panorama!

God had lovingly clothed His Garden in an eye-popping ensemble of heaven’s finest garments, adorning it as a bride in her wedding finery. Created as a garden filled with joy and pleasure, Eden flourished as a little Patch of Heaven, a pure paradise, for its name means delicate, delight, or pleasure.


“So the creation of the heavens and the earth and everything in them was completed.” (Gen. 2:1 NLT) God’s creation completed. The seeds of His Word had transferred their power, done their job, producing all God had spoken.

Of all the garden’s lovingly created elements, no more precious element existed in the garden than God’s presence. In ancient times, when a Persian king wanted to present a special honor on one of his subjects, he granted the subject the title of “a companion of the garden,” which gave him the privilege of walking in the garden as a special friend and companion of the king.

And man did so unashamedly – for a while.

The garden of creation was God’s kingdom on earth, which contained health, wealth, welfare, safety, prosperity, peace, all God’s plan of salvation.

All that God created speaks of His forethought for benefiting all mankind, “The Father, Who is the Source of all things and for Whom we [have life],” (1 Cor. 8:6 Amp) created all things for the sustainment of life, so man should have The Light of the world, The Living Waters, and The Bread of Life. And “His divine power has given to us all things pertaining to life and godliness.” (2 Peter 1:3 RGT)

The Father filled the emptiness of earth with His kingdom, and only the kingdom can fulfill man’s emptiness.

Lord, I hear You knocking. I’m coming.

Come on in. It’s cold out there. Make Yourself at home. Please come in and help me renovate my home for You.

Help me clean out the closet of my hidden thoughts and throw away the trash of wrong attitudes. Dust behind the doors where preconceived ideas accumulate like cobwebs.

Sweep out the corners of my heart where the soil of unwillingness has piled up. Dig into those deep crevices of my soul where stubbornness plants its roots. Shine Your light into the dark recesses of my emotions so nothing can remain hidden from Your forgiveness.

Remove from the shelves of my mind all the negative thoughts that I cling to and replace them all with Your promises that they may be readily available whenever I need them.

Scrub down the walls that have been littered with the graffiti of my words that are dirty blemishes on Your Spirit and Your Word. Repair the cracks in the walls so that the enemy cannot ooze in with his unwanted ideas.

When spiritual unrest jams up my usefulness as a channel, rout out all the garbage of self that Your living waters may run freely, cleansing…

Fix the holes in the roof where the rains of difficulties leak in and threaten to dampen my soul-rest. Seal up the broken windows where the winds of discontent blow in so easily. Let Your joy clean the windows and give them the sparkle that the world needs to see.

Clean out the soot of wrong burning desires that have blackened my chimney. Cleanse it that it may allow the vapors of praise to rise heavenward. Rekindle the embers of my heart’s passion that have grown cold. Ignite a blazing desire to know You more, to serve You more, and to love You more.

Use my tears to mop the floor of my soul where it has been trampled upon with the muddy feet of those who would rather walk over me than to see the hurt and pain within me.

Dismantle the fences that I have unwittingly built which have kept me from reaching out to help someone or kept some hurt soul from reaching in.

Help me build on that one sure Foundation that is unshakable and can withstand all storms and disasters. Help me erect that exterior that holds all else together, using my obedience as the cement to hold Your bricks of truth in place. Make sure I pick up and use each brick so that the edifice does not become faulty, because each truth left lying on the ground is useless.

There is but one chair within these walls, and it is the throne upon which I give You the honor of sitting. When I try to sit upon it myself, shove me off! Make me land with a jolt hard enough to bring me to my senses, because it is Your throne, meant only for You.

Lord, this is Your home. Let us build it together and keep it clean together. May it always be a temple in which You may reside and can always feel proud enough to bring others to visit. May it be a monument to Your grace, Your forgiveness, and Your love.

“Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it...”

I am tickled pink to present a precious friend as guest blogger today. Please welcome Billy Coffey, story-teller extraordinaire! His story is so appropriate for Heading Home. I present to you Billy's story, Waiting for Home...

A father seldom thinks things through before asking his children what they want for their birthday. He just says it. He thinks their answer will be an easy one. A new doll, maybe. Or the latest action figure. But what he does not consider is that their answer may be something utterly different and much more difficult than having to run to the store the next day and plop something down in front of a cashier.

I learned all this over the weekend. “What do you want for your birthday?” I asked my daughter. Her reply?

“A sleepover!”

So. My wife and I played host to three six-year-old girls last night. Having such young children sleeping at your house and away from theirs for the first time was something for which I admit I was not prepared. For the screaming and yelling, yes. And the mess, absolutely. I was even prepared for the dent that some tiny body part knocked into the living room wall.

But I was not prepared for Curly Sue. Not one bit.

Susan was her given name. But the dark brown locks of hair that adorned her head demanded a temporary nickname. Curly Sue had never spent more than a few hours away from her parents. The likelihood of her actually staying the entire night was slim. But she was determined. Curly Sue stepped through our front door with a pillow, a sleeping bag, and a knapsack full of toys. She was there to stay.

All went well that evening. Until bedtime, that is. Then things began the sort of downward spiral that can happen when you have a house full of little girls.

It began with goodnight prayers. Girls in a circle, taking turns praying for mommy and daddy and for God to make their stomachs quit hurting from all the popcorn. When it came time for Curly Sue's contribution, though, there was only silence.

“Do you want to pray, Susan?” asked my wife.

A tiny nod.

“Okay, go ahead.”

More silence. Then, five words: “God, I wanna go home.”

Uh-oh.

Four phone calls to her mother later, and Curly Sue decided to be strong and stick it out. She didn't want to leave her friends, but she didn't want to stay, either. Could everyone go with her back to her house? she asked. It wasn't that she wasn't having fun. Curly Sue said she was having much fun. She loved our home and having her friends around, and she really loved all the popcorn. And there was so much to do! But as much as she was enjoying herself and her surroundings, she couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't where she should be.

“It's just not home,” she told me.

The girls were asleep by eleven. By one, Curly Sue had appeared at our bedside twice. “I wanna go home,” she said. Both times.

Instinct woke me at six thirty when I rolled over and found no one beside me. I got out of bed and walked into the living room in search of my wife. I found her and Curly Sue in the rocking chair by the window, gazing out into the evaporating night.

“Just wait a bit,” my wife was telling her. “The sun's coming, you just wait and see. And when the sun comes, it'll be time to go home.”

Curly Sue smiled. Me, too.

Because I, too, am a little visitor in a big place, and I miss home. Oh, it's wonderful here. Beautiful. I have fun, I'm around people I love, and there's so much to do.

But it's just not home. No, my home is somewhere else. Somewhere on the other side of this life. Somewhere perfect.

Like her, I'm torn. I want to go home, but I don't want to leave anyone here, either. I want everyone to come with me so we can all have fun.

Some days, many days, I like it here. But there are days when the weariness of this world weighs on me. When I long for the day when laughter won't be so fleeting and hope won't be so hard to find.

Those are the days when I seem to sit by some unknown window and gaze out, trying to will the darkness to fade and the light to shine.

Because I know that when the Son comes, I can go home.

~~~If you enjoyed Billy's story, and I know you did, you can visit him on his blog What I Learned Today or catch him hanging around Twitter as @billycoffey.