We don't put down roots, perhaps because there is so much less deep soil available. We travel with the winds, barely acknowledging the people around us, the ones we used to know as neighbors and trusted friends. We hang out with people when it is convenient, and are quick to forget them when the winds take us somewhere else.
I feel transient. I feel homeless. I don't think I'm the only one.
I want to put down roots somewhere. I want to live and work and go to church in the same place, for a long time. I want to be someone that can be depended on, to have friends from ten years ago coming over for lunch on the weekends, and to see something God is doing grow over the course of a decade. I am hurt that when things go wrong, our generation can be counted on to turn tail and run. There has to be something more, and that something starts with a home.
We need a home to care about, a solid base to build on. We are not all itinerant workers in the kingdom of God. He wants to establish us, in a neighborhood and a church and a family, with solid connections that are not easily broken.
For now, we all drift along, and I'm beginning to see how truly sad that is. Home is more than a place to lay your head.
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