It was almost 20 years ago, but I still remember my Dad telling me that he and Mom were moving.

It was only the second time in their 50 year marriage they had moved. The first time was when they left a little apartment in my Grandparent’s house to move into the house dad had build with his own hands for a mere $6,000. That probably seemed like a lot in the mid ‘50s.

It seemed that I was more traumatized by the move than they were. I know I was not. It was probably just my shock at the move they had been working on for some time.

In their 80’s they were relieved to be going to an independent living apartment where there would not be a long driveway that would need to have snow removed in the winter or the two acres of grass that needed mowing each week during the growing season.

But for me, that was the house where I grew up and the backyard was my field for countless games of baseball and catch with my brother. It was even where my boys, when they were little guys, played Wiffle ball with their grandmother. Even though I never lived there as an adult, it was always the familiar and wonderful home that I could visit.

Their move should not have surprised me, but it did. About five years later I lost them to death. I still miss them, and the reality of the changes stir melancholy feelings. On the rare occasion when I visit my hometown, I drive by the house.

“Home” means much more than “house.”

A home involves events, relationships and belonging. It is where you get a sense of who you are. It is a reference point for all of life and a place of security – at least it should be.

The house is the structure that provides shelter for the family and the longer the family is in the house the more if feels like a home.

Through the Holy Scriptures we are told that nothing here on Earth is our home.

“We are aliens in a strange land (Ephesians 2:19-20, Philippians 3:20).”

Our home is in Heaven and there is where we will find the permanence and security that so often eludes us in our frequently changing houses and turbulent lives. It is a place where “thieves do not steal, moths and rust to not corrupt (Matthew 6:19).” “There is no war, sickness, sorrow, tears of heartache (Revelation 21:4).”

It is rare to have an old homestead where the parents have lived for 50 years. I have much to celebrate and be thankful for, but as long and marvelous as that accomplishment was, it is over.

Elderly people who have a deep faith are an inspiration to observe as they anticipate their home-going.

As their bodies grow frail, their abilities decrease and their dependency grows, their confidence in the home-going reveals a growing hope in a better place. Their eyes grow dim and hearing decreases, but their vision for the other side is brighter and they can almost hear their Savior calling. It is their new aspiration and goal.

My Dad missed the old house, but he knew that his apartment experience was a brief stop before he would go to his eternal home “that was not built by human hands” (2 Corinthians 5:1). The words of Jesus brought hope and comfort when he said, “Let not your heart be troubled. In my father’s house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you and if I go, I’ll come again and take you there to be with me And where I am, you can be also (John 14:1-4).”

As we care for people, sometimes it is appropriate to talk about their eternal home. Sometimes it is not appropriate.

It is a matter of timing. But it is always right to live and care from the perspective that an eternal home is offered to us and that Jesus is preparing a place for us.

It is much better than anything here, we get to be with Him and it lasts forever.