I Surrender Place

Even though they had suffered slavery and cruelty in the land of Egypt, the Israelites expressed longing for that land. They missed the leeks and garlic. As they trekked the wilderness, they remembered the comfort food, the settled place, the clean water supply—and forgot the hard labor, slaughtered babies, and taskmaster whips.

Have you ever longed for the familiar past in the midst of an uncertain present and future? I wonder how Sarah felt when she heard they would be moving to a place yet unknown, one that God would show them. Did she ever crave stability and permanent walls?

When my husband, Todd, was growing up in Arizona, his family spent many summers in southern Illinois with grandparents. Grandpa and Grandma Lafferty had a farm with a farmhouse that had endured through the years. This was a place where family gathered for reunions and grandchildren learned the rigors of baling hay and working a farm. Stories from past generations were told—like how Grandma Mahala was put in the oven (in place of an incubator) when she was born prematurely. She was teased about coming out “half-baked.” We took our children to the old home place and they experienced firsthand walking through the cornfields and fishing at the pond. They heard the quiet of the country after growing up in big cities their whole lives.

Place. It has a firm hold in our hearts and in many ways shapes our thinking and how we live. It’s easy to think that who we are and our stability depends on a certain familiar place. But change happens . . . ever more frequently, it seems. Grandpa and Grandma Lafferty passed away and the farm was sold. There was a sense of loss and longing for that place.

Father, each surrender of place reminds me that my only true and stable home is in the city whose architect and builder is You. Help me to surrender all security of earthly place and find my true stability in You alone. Thank You for being the same yesterday, today, and forever! Amen.