Home.

Home is defined as, “the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household”

But home for me was much more complicated than that and I’m sure any missionary kid could relate, home was not a permanent place. As a kid I disliked answering the question where home was. Why? Well, I was born in Australia, had a US passport, but spent my childhood in Papua New Guinea. 

Bright eyed 10-year-old Abigail would have told you confidently PNG is my home, but 13-year-old middle school Abigail would have timidly not known how to answer. Her family had said their goodbyes to her “home” and moved backed to the country her passport told her was supposed to be her home. But now 19-year-old Abigail gets to tell you the journey God has taken her on to redefine home as not the place one grows up or lays ones head at night, but anywhere God meets you.

God began working on my heart and revealing more of himself as a home during my time in Gainesville. He showed me that I get to be at home wherever my feet are because He is with me always. What a blessing it was to walk in this assurance that I always have a never changing home with the Father when all the things society defines home as keep changing.

Since arriving here in Puerto Viejo, I have been reminded of the physical place I grew up calling home. From the lush variety of green everywhere you look to the sticky humidity in the air; to the sound of rain on a tin roof putting you to sleep at night and limiting you to indoor activities during the day thanks to o rainy season. From filtering all your water and walking almost everywhere along dirt roads and having an abundant supply of fresh fruit. This place feels, smells, and looks so much like the place I called home for so many years, yet is a completely different culture, language, and country. Remembering the place I defined as home brought back so many sweet memories. However, it also reminded me of all those years the thought of home hurt, was confusing, and just didn’t line up. If I would have known and recognized the home I had in the Father, how much more confident would I have been as a child and even young teenager as I went through so many transitions.

To the typical American child, home is nothing one gives a second thought to until maybe the time you move out for college or go away for the first time. For the MK, home often physically looks like a place no one will quite get or ever understand. But I am so grateful we all get to call God our home because he never changes. He is with us everywhere we go and provides so much more than a roof over our head. Our physical homes are temporary, but our home in God is eternal. Thanks God for that.

I no longer have to try and grasp for words to explain my home or be disappointed when my “home” changes again. The incredible thing about being brothers and sisters in Christ is that your home is with the Father as well!! Your true home as a believer and professor of Jesus Christ is in the presence of the Father every single day! I pray you get to experience the security, comfort, and rest He provides us as our eternal home.