Wisdom's Call: 30 Days in the House of Lifeنموونە

A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME

What transforms a house into a home? Any structure can be a house, but it’s the elements within—especially the people—and what qualities they bring that make it a home. I’ve noticed that even the most beautifully appointed home can feel terribly hollow if the occupants I love are not there. Of course, in a busy home I enjoy the stillness and the quiet, but also because of the lingering memories of the occupants who have filled the rooms and my heart with their peace.

Some of our spiritual ancestors sang from the depths of their souls, toil, and harsh labor: “I’ve got a home in glory land that outshines the sun." They sang of the Home that Christ Himself has prepared—for the construction is already done, and the keys secured the moment He emerged from the grave to lead us captives to the door. He tells us that His Home has many rooms, space for all He has gathered in. In His Home, there is pleasant work. The fragrances of perfect peace and purpose rise from every corner to bless our glorified senses. The fragrance of life reigns because He is there—the chief architect of the structure that was set stone upon stone, filling it with the safety and fulfillment of His people in mind.

Look around. The architect has set glimpses of this glorious Home all around for us to discover, for our delight. The psalmist saw these homes of peace and order all around him, parting tree limbs and peering into the homes of God’s tiniest creatures nestled between branches. God fashions homes for even the sparrow and the swallow, “a nest for herself where she places her young . . . near your altars” (Ps. 84:3). So safe are these little ones that they trust their young—that is, their future and their hope—to Him.

How content are the psalmist’s swallow and sparrow, more secure than in the palm of any human hand. Safe. Nestled. Protected and watched over by the Creator Himself, who reminds us today that we have a home in glory land that outshines the sun. And as the psalmist meditates on his promised place of shalom, like Adam he names it aptly . . . he calls it lovely.

So it is with Wisdom’s house. How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord of Armies. I long and yearn for the courts of the Lord; my heart and flesh cry out for the living God. Even a sparrow finds a home, and a swallow, a nest for herself where she places her young— near your altars, Lord of Armies my King and my God. How happy are those who reside in your house, who praise you continually. (Ps. 84:1–4)