top of page
  • Writer's pictureLaura Kae

Unafraid: this is just my temporary home

I think some things in life are hard to figure out even when they are obvious. I have known for years that someday I would die. Having been raised on a farm, I probably knew all about death by the age of three. It surrounded me in the seasons and life cycles of the plants and animals around me. Over eleven years ago, I placed my faith in Jesus; and it became clear to me that someday I would go to heaven.

Honestly most of the time I have been in a relationship with Christ, heaven didn’t mean all that much to me. I was pretty consumed with my career and hobbies. If you would have tried to have a conversation with me about how amazing it was that someday we were going to go home to be with Jesus, I would have been mystified. I thought earth was pretty good. It wasn’t entirely satisfying my desires, but pursuing its allures was sufficiently disguising my thirst for heaven enough to deter me from truly forsaking everything to follow Him.

I had a deal with God. He could have everything except my career and one hobby. Those were mine. He didn’t need control of them to heal me. I was sure of it. Over and over again I defended myself to my Gramma, “But Gramma, technically I’m not doing anything wrong.” I don’t try arguing about technicalities now; I understand my motivations are the root of the problem.

Five years ago everything changed when I decided to follow Him in the same single-hearted way that I had followed my “career” and hobby to their deaths. Now the ache in my heart for heaven becomes stronger almost daily. Hey, it’s rough down here!

God doesn’t seem very interested in giving me comfort here on earth. He seems more interested in drawing me to Him to know Him deeply.

Last week I stumbled upon a country song as I listened to a random playlist on YouTube. It is “Temporary Home” by Carrie Underwood. I don’t listen to country music very much. Almost never really. But for the last week and a half, I have listened to it a lot. Over and over again, I hit replay. YouTube has learned to simply suggest I listen to it again.

This is my temporary home. It’s not where I belong. Windows and rooms that I’m passing through. This is just a stop on the way to where I’m going. I’m not afraid because I know this is my temporary home.

And it is this song that has been getting me through, helping me make the hard decisions. It is all temporary, so am I going to gamble on God and eternal investment or what makes my very temporary life and emotions comfortable for a few moments?

The pain in this world begs me to respond to it by curling in a ball to protect myself. It begs me to build my life with a “me first” attitude and strategy. My God begs me to love my neighbor as myself – a calling to which I have thus far only aspired.

Sacrifice really hurts, but it is temporary. Why would I bet on choosing temporary comfort over choosing discomfort in what is temporal as I invest in what is eternal?

As I write that, I hurt because what is temporary does hurt. Life can be a bit of a bitch. More often than not.

A few weeks ago, a friend gave me a timeline of world history. It is shown as the picture on this post. That last line that you can see is the year 2100. As I have paced my floor praying this week (a habit I can only assume my downstairs neighbor doesn’t enjoy), occasionally I have stood before the map and taken comfort that when the year 2100 comes, I will be with Jesus. It doesn’t matter whether or not I have simply died or whether the world has ended. I will be home, and there will be perfect peace. There is a finish line. There is a day when this will all be over.

This is my temporary home, but I don’t have to be afraid because my permanent home is entirely secure.

How do you engage the temporary nature of life? Do you find it easier to respond to the temporary or eternal aspects of life? What pain do you try to cover with comfort?

Comments


bottom of page