Refuge. There are a lot of words I find only come into regular use when singing church songs or reading the Bible or hearing a sermon. But today as it’s close to freezing when I let the dogs out to pee, I was definitely excited to take refuge beside the gas stove in my house. The psalmists are wonderful at painting beautiful word pictures. Martin Luther’s great hymn about God being a “mighty fortress” resounds in my mind as I take my guitar out to play some music after my morning prayers. As a first time home buyer I don’t think there’s been a day gone by that I have not marveled at the fact

“this is our house.”

Yesterday, All saints day, and the day after halloween – we put up Christmas lights outside. Judge us if you will, we haven’t started blasting Christmas music yet. I’m working on developing some good playlists first — nothing worse than listening to the same five songs over and over every year. But in all seriousness, I felt really passionate about decorating for Christmas this year, something I’ve never felt before. 

We moved from a small one and a half bedroom bungalow style apartment in Glendale (Los Angeles County) that was 646 square feet into a two story nearly 1,800 square feet three bedroom. We loved our little home, which was slightly bigger than our previous apartment by 70 square feet (IE = the additional half bedroom for Ashlynn). LA is an amazing city with amazing access to entertainment and culture, the ocean, and it’s no wonder the cost of living is so vastly different than the little town of Eugene. Still, in LA we would always be renters. And there’s nothing wrong with that life. But I have been shaped by the American dream which often has several key indicators of what the good life is defined by, and the biggest is connected to “land.” Owning your own place in the world. There’s not enough time on this blog to unravel where this notion came from and why we need to be aware of the harmful side effects of blindly allowing the American dream to shape our world view. 

But I have to admit a large part of my pride and joy during these past few months after our move have come from realizing part of a dream I’ve had for quite some time. (Technically the bank owns my house, but I digress). I am truly thankful to God for our house and home. I am thankful for the people in our life that made it possible to move and buy. I am thankful to my in-laws and my parents who put days of hard work into helping us renovate. I am thankful for mornings where I wake up and have to own the responsibility for this place. I am thankful for the memories these walls will contain with family and friends. I am thankful for the space our children and dogs will get to play in. I am thankful for all the memories of homes I’ve lived in, for the hospitality shown me by friends, family, and strangers. 

Today I am grateful for God being my refuge, shelter — my home. You see this house and owning a house has made me realize just how important the imagery in the Bible is about God’s dwelling place. Today I read Psalm 42 and 43 as well as reading again from Matthew about the greatest commandment. I’ve come to see hospitality as one of the most practical expressions of loving our neighbor as our self. I witnessed hospitality shown by my grandmother on a constant basis. Growing up the big family Thanksgiving meal always had guests, people who were not family members present. My parents modeled hospitality, always making our home available to others — even hosting a house church for over a year in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam before we moved back to the US. Janel and I love having people over, hosting dinners and parties. We’ve already had family over and even a socially distant visit with some neighbors too in our new home. 

However, I’ve realized Jesus lived out hospitality differently than I usually do. You see Jesus let others host him in their homes and lives. Jesus sent out the 70 and the disciples in pairs to be on the receiving end of hospitality. Being the host means we are the ones in control, we decide things like what is served, we own the “high ground” as it were. Being the guest of another’s hospitality is actually what loving a neighbor is about. Obviously, this does not mean inviting others over is wrong — but I have been challenged by this upside down view of hospitality to realize that God is such a  gracious guest. Loving God with all my heart, soul, mind and strength — my whole being means realizing that before I come to sit as a guest at God’s table God, in Jesus, has already been a guest at mine. 

So I can ask like the psalmist, “when can I go to meet with God…to be in your presence?” I am thankful for my house, where God is my guest finding refuge beside the fire with me.