“Living among Strangers: The Lost Meaning of Home.” Where do I start to unpack this concept? Actually, it’s easier than I might think. Living among strangers is a state I find myself in often. I can tag along with any group, but do I really belong in any of them? When they start talking, I find myself sitting at the edge, straining for scraps of conversation and pretending to be in on the conversation. Living among these strangers can be worse than living alone; I never feel lonelier than I do in a crowd.
What about the lost meaning of home? I suppose that goes back to a sense of belonging. And while it’s true I can feel at home anywhere (I often call my school dormitory “home” while talking about it in the same sentence as my real home), in those crowd situations, I don’t feel like I belong. I can surround myself with people I know, and they’re great people, but it doesn’t mean I’ll feel at home.
Maybe this is because I try too hard to identify myself through the people around me. I’m this person’s friend, and this other person’s friend, and this person’s friend as well. But trying to be everyone’s best friend only sets me up for disappointment. I don’t belong to these people; their tables are not my home.
I have to remember that my home is only a prayer away. Ephesians 2:19 reminds me that “Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household.” So even when I feel alone, I am never surrounded by strangers when I have my God by my side and my brothers and sisters loving and praying for me. And I can never leave home, because my home is in the heart of Jesus, who will never let me go. Other people may find home in other places, and more power to them. But I know who I am and where I belong, and that is a wonderful feeling.