Holy Homesickness

There’s something about home that resonates deeply within all of us.

After a long vacation, we find ourselves saying, “There’s no place like home.”

After spending time with extended family over the holidays, sitting through a week of work travel, or simply enduring a long day, we long for the comfort of familiar surroundings.

Home represents rest, belonging, safety, and peace.

But have you ever stopped to wonder where that longing comes from?

I don’t think it’s random. I don’t think it’s simply a preference for comfort.

I believe it traces all the way back to the opening chapters of Scripture.

In Genesis 2, God created a garden called Eden and placed Adam and Eve there. Humanity’s first home was not merely a location; it was a place of perfect fellowship with God. They walked with Him, enjoyed His presence, and lived according to His design.

But when sin entered the story, everything changed. Adam and Eve were displaced from the garden, and ever since then humanity has been searching for home.

In many ways, I believe every person carries what I would call an echo of Eden. Deep within our hearts is a longing for something more than this world can provide.

Ecclesiastes tells us that God has placed eternity in the human heart. We were created for more than temporary pleasures, temporary successes, and temporary destinations.

We were created for Him.

That’s why when Paul writes, “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain,” he isn’t expressing a death wish. He isn’t trying to escape life. He’s expressing a longing to be with Jesus.

Paul understood something that all of us need to remember: home is no longer primarily a place. Home is a person.

One of the early church fathers famously wrote, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” That captures Paul’s heart perfectly. His deepest desire was not simply to leave earth behind. His deepest desire was to be with Christ. Yet what I find so remarkable is that Paul’s longing for eternity never caused him to become passive in the present.

Instead, he says that remaining alive is “more necessary” for the sake of others. While heaven was his desire, ministry remained his assignment. While he longed for home, he understood there was still work to be done.

That raises an important question for all of us:

What is our role here and now while we wait for eternity?

Paul’s answer begins with exalting Christ.

He says that his eager expectation is that Christ would be honored in his body whether by life or by death. Paul wanted every aspect of his life to point people toward Jesus. He uses language that carries the idea of magnifying something.

A magnifying glass doesn’t make an object larger than it already is; it simply helps others see its size more clearly. God is already great. The question is whether people can see His greatness through us.

Can they see it in our attitudes? In our relationships? In our responses to difficulty? In the way we handle our resources? In the way we treat our families? Paul’s desire was that every area of his life would make Jesus appear bigger to those around him.

That challenges me because it forces me to ask a simple but important question: Who am I magnifying with my life?

Paul then turns his attention to what he calls “fruitful labor.” He writes, “If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me.” What stands out to me is that Paul doesn’t simply say labor. He says fruitful labor. There is a difference.

Most of us have no problem staying busy. Our calendars fill up quickly. Our schedules are packed. The challenge is not activity. The challenge is determining what is actually worth investing our lives into.

Fruitful labor is work that carries eternal significance. It’s work that outlasts us. It impacts future generations. It advances God’s kingdom long after we are gone. And I’ve learned that discovering what is truly fruitful requires discernment more than decision-making.

Jesus said, “Apart from me you can do nothing.” Before we can produce fruit, we must first abide. Before we work for Jesus, we must spend time with Jesus. Fruitfulness begins by staying connected to the One who produces the fruit in the first place.

Finally, Paul says that his desire is for the “progress and joy” of others in the faith. I love that phrase because it reminds me that Christianity was never intended to be a solo journey.

One of the things I’ve discovered over the years is that my faith comes alive in a unique way when it becomes less about me and more about someone else.

There is something powerful about investing in another person’s spiritual growth. There is something meaningful about helping someone navigate obstacles, overcome challenges, and take their next step with Christ.

When I look back over my own life, I can see how God used spiritual fathers and mentors to shape me. A youth pastor who welcomed me back when I had drifted. Leaders who answered questions, offered wisdom, and believed in me before I fully believed in myself. I am who I am today because people took ownership of my spiritual growth and chose to invest in me.

That’s what Paul is talking about. We are called to help others make progress in their faith. We are called to encourage, mentor, disciple, and walk alongside people as they follow Jesus.

The reality is that all of us carry a longing for home. We all have that echo of Eden within us. We all look forward to the day when we will be fully with Christ. But until that day comes, we have work to do.

We are called to exalt Christ with our lives.

We are called to invest in what bears lasting fruit.

And we are called to advance the faith of others.

So while we wait for eternity, may Christ be magnified in us.

May our lives produce fruit that outlasts us.

And may we help others find their way home.