Our resident theologian...Caleb

Caleb is 5 years old and sometimes has knowledge beyond his years. Isn't it interesting how a child's mind can sometimes put simple language to the most profound truths?

The other night we were talking after supper and the conversation moved to the subject of heaven. Not sure how we got there, but Caleb has recently been expressing more interest in these things. So, Melody and I were referring to the house we live in as "not being our home". We said our real home is heaven. Caleb, pausing for a minute, says "this house is like a hotel and heaven is like our real home."

And, here I am, 2 days later blogging and thinking about that statement. He really got it right. The house we live in is only a temporary dwelling...like a hotel. You never "move in" to a hotel. You stay, knowing that you will only be there for a short time. You don't get real attached to the pictures, TV, beds, or couch. You know they don't belong to you...they are on loan for a night or two. And, you also know, that you'll be checking out soon.

Forgive me God, for holding on to my stuff so tightly. Forgive me for viewing this earthly dwelling as my home. I tend to place the word "my" in front of things way too much.

I own nothing. Nothing. Temporary...that's all it is. A few nights in a hotel.

We are pilgrims. We are sojourners. Pioneers...never settlers.