Our Sojourn

We recently read Little House on the Prairie this past school year. The story ends with the tragic news that after a difficult year of establishing their homestead, the government had renegotiated settlement boundaries, and in short, they had to leave it all and move on. Most painful for them was the garden and fields, just about ready to harvest after a year of laborious preparation. We had once experienced a degree of such a loss when our landlord had sold our nicely updated and cared for rental home after we had invested much time and energy in remodeling it. The Lord blessed us in our upheaval and provided a new lovely home with a large yard that we had turned into a big garden, playground, and duck coop. We had enjoyed our first year there immensely, raising ducks and gathering fresh eggs, planting and harvesting, and generally pretending to be the Ingalls family. Yet, in reading this account, I naturally wondered if such a thing would happen again; would we be compelled to leave yet another temporary dwelling place we had invested in as our home? The question nagged and when planting time came around, I recall becoming inexplicably anxious. I found the Little House book and reread the last chapter, crying this time. I closed the book, offered up a pray of acceptance and trust, and dried my eyes. We expanded the garden to 2200 square feet, built a greenhouse with a raised bed and hanging tomato pots, ordered seeds, and set to planting our garden. We acquired chickens and a new coop and extended the duck yard fence. And we all the while somehow knew in our hearts that we would not harvest it. Yet, we continued to hope and dream. Then, the day came when we realized that all our labor was for another. We would not harvest it; we were moving on. The Lord had known and had prepared our hearts, yet it still hurt to leave this lovely homestead that we were borrowing for a time. My heart still dreams about owning land, a home, raising animals, and growing our own food. I want to be Ma Ingalls! But my heart more deeply yearns for the Day when I shall truly be home. I look and earnestly wait for a city with foundations, whose builder and maker is God. Until then, I dwell in tents...or rented houses. "Blessed is the man whose strength is in You, whose heart is set on pilgrimage." Psalm 84:5