Home Is Where...?

My mother passed away unexpectedly five years ago this past Monday. I was nearly 29 years old, had been married almost 3 years. Mom and I had had our conflicts, but she was still Mom. She was the one I griped to about work (though she'd always been a stay-at-home mom, so those conversations weren't always fulfilling), she was the one I talked to about wanting a child. She was the one I went to when I wanted to make a trifle look beautiful. She was the one I asked to pray for me and for my husband and whatever difficulties we were facing at the time.

And then she was gone.

In her book Motherless Daughters: The Legacy of Loss, Hope Edelman spends time discussing the different issues faced by women who've lost mothers at different ages. A small child who loses her mother is affected differently from a teenager who loses her mother. Edelman says, "If adolescence is all about forming an identity, the twenties are about taking that identity and putting it to use in the larger world. That's why a woman who loses her mother at this time may well be the most overlooked and misunderstood daughter of all." The author goes on to explain that as a young woman establishes her career, family, and motherhood, she needs a "home base" to which to return for encouragement, affirmation, advice, nurturing, and so on. If the daughter lives in a town away from her family, visiting her family is a vital part of succeeding during this time of life. But what happens when there isn't a home to go to? Fathers can do what they can, but the heart of a home is created by the mother.

In the five years since Mom's death, I have essentially withered without the nurturing a young woman, wife, and mother needs. In the past year or so, it has become apparent that I need to find some nurturing for myself. While I do need some nurturing from human women, a different idea came to me this morning. I have been slowly making my way through Joanna Weaver's Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World (which, among many other books, had been on my mother's bookshelf at her passing). I have a hard time understanding the concept of taking care of myself. This book is one of several resources (which include people I know!) that have helped me see the need for self-care. Weaver discusses Robert Boyd Munger's article "My Heart Christ's Home" and the idea of Jesus's living in each of us. Not a new idea to me, really. I've been in church most of my life. Jesus wants to live in us. Right. I get it. Or so I thought. Weaver quotes Munger: "'[Jesus] built a fire in the cold hearth and banished the chill. He started music where there had been stillness....'"

Instead of wishing for a home that I can escape to, to envelop me, to comfort me, perhaps I already have that home right here inside me. Perhaps I should ask God to come on in, ask Him to put the tea kettle on the stove, ask Him to pat my hand and stroke my head while I tell Him about how tired, weary, and confused I am. This is exactly what I wish my mother were here for. My heart hurts because I want her to visit my home and enjoy the little comforts and joys my little family and I have created here. But she's not here, and really, God can bring even more comfort than she could.

The saying goes that home is where the heart is. True. But perhaps it matters more who is in your heart. And if God is, then you're home.

"Abide in me, and I in you" (John 15:4a).

"Just as the Father has loved Me, I have also loved you; abide in My love" (John 15:9).

"These things I have spoken to you so that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full" (John 15:11).