Thoughts from Mark "Hat" Rackley

And I will provide a place for my people Israel and will plant them so that they can have a home of their own and no longer be disturbed. Wicked people will not oppress them anymore, as they did at the beginning and have done ever since the time I appointed leaders over my people Israel. I will also subdue all your enemies.

• 1 Chronicles 17:9-10

When the Lord had finished speaking with Abraham, he left, and Abraham returned home.

• Genesis 18:33

Jacob came home to his father Isaac in Mamre, near Kiriath Arba (that is, Hebron), where Abraham and Isaac had stayed.

• Genesis 25:37

One day Ruth’s mother-in-law Naomi said to her, “My daughter, I must find a home for you, where you will be well provided for.”

• Ruth 3:1

Boilerplate

I’m Harold Dykstra.  I’m retired, but I go to food bank distributions all over Tracy and talk to people that need someone who will listen to their story.  My time is well spent.  A police lieutenant suggested that I write down the conversations that I had with an angel.  I did not know she was an angel at the time.  The angel, for a little over a year, indwelled a life-sized posable action figure my children bought me, so that I would not be perceived as travelling alone.  And in a way, she was training me for what I do while talking to the needy.  She probed my heart to find out what I believed and how I express love for others.  She changed my life.  Oh, excuse me, angels have no gender, but the angel indwelled a doll named Bountiful Babs.  After seeing the angel in that form for over a year, I cannot see her in my mind in any other form.

This Week’s Question

In the last episode, Babs learned about forgiveness.

But now, we were going home.  I had been on the road for months.  Within those months, I had made four ten-million-dollar sales.  One million dollars of miscellaneous spare parts had been a monster sale for me in the past, but Babs had prophesied that I would get four huge sales, and I did.  My bonus this year would be monstrous.  Maybe I could get around to the home improvements I had been putting off.

Who am I kidding?  I need to simply clean up the house.  My wife was a crafter.  She took projects with her on every trip, but during the past few years, after she got sick, she had lost her attention span.  She had lost her energy.  She had lost her drive to get things completed.  But she had not lost her desire.  Thus, she kept buying craft stuff.  It filled our house with craft projects nine out of every ten not ever started.  I had no heart to throw away what she had started, and I had no idea who would like to have her unstarted projects.  There were fewer and fewer crafty people these days.

But that was only one reason for me to dread arriving at my home.  Sure, Babs would see the clutter and fuss that she was not going to clean it up and the clutter everywhere was unacceptable.  Okay, I was projecting, but that was my fear.

My second fear was that Morrie or Villie would come by and see a very much living person named Babs.  Morrie had purchased the Babs doll.  Villie had purchased the nice summer attire for Babs to wear, but that was a doll.  I feared how they would react to Babs being ‘other living.’  Would they freak out over the ‘miracle’?  Or would they think we were intimate?  You know, sleeping in the same bed and letting nature take its course.  I always rented a hotel room with two queen beds, just so we did not do that, but would Morrie and Villie believe that?  And there is no way that I could explain how Babs became alive.

My stomach was doing flip flops.  This was going to be bad.

When I opened the front door, Babs entered the house and only said one word, “Wow!”

I said, “I’m sorry about the mess.  My wife loved crafts and she bought many of them.  And I was so busy with caregiving.  Every time we got home, it was a solid two weeks of doctor appointments.  I apologize, Babs.  I will start sorting this stuff out.  You can go upstairs and figure out which bedroom you want.  I’ll sleep down here.”

Babs chuckled, “Harold, your wife was a crafty lady.  There is nothing wrong with that.  You have been driving all day.  Go.  Take a shower and go to bed.  I’ll go to Villie’s room and make myself at home.  Hmpf!  Home!?  You are going to have to teach me what home means tomorrow morning.  Deal?”  She kissed me on the cheek.

I replied, “Deal.”  But I barely got out the word.  I was so exhausted.  I did as she said.

The next morning, I awoke to all the clutter in the bedroom being gone, the same in the hallway, and very little clutter in the kitchen.  To explain, we had purchased more canned goods than our pantry could hold, so a couple of cases, one of green beans and the other of whole kernel corn in the corner next to the pantry.  And all the pots and pans were put away and freshly washed.  In the utility room, there was a load of clothing in the washer and another in the dryer, both nearing the end of their cycle.

I went upstairs and walked into Villie’s room without knocking.  Babs gasped.  “Do you not knock before entering?  I’m dressed, but I might not have been.”  She was wearing her favorite night attire, a T-shirt and men’s boxers.

I apologized.  “Babs, did you do all this?”

She nodded, “You know I do not require much sleep.  It was nothing to it, except hours of sorting.  Everything is in labeled garbage bags, not to throw out, just to identify what is in the bag.  And, oh, don’t go into Morrie’s room.  Okay, you may not be able to get the door open, but I put everything in there.  The last I checked, you could open the door, but things might shift.  Oh, and the mouse family in the cupboard were nice.  They agreed to move into the next-door neighbor’s basement.”

I asked, “You speak ‘mouse’?”

Babs giggled, “Of course, doesn’t everybody?”  She scrunched her nose and blinked.

I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.  “No, ‘other living’ maybe, but not humans.  We just kill the mice.”

Babs gasped, “How terrible!”

I shrugged, “When they eat your food, it becomes a case of them or us.”

Babs giggled, “We need to have that Bible study, but let me get dressed.  Morrie and Villie are coming this afternoon.  I have a roast in the oven.”

I asked, “But I just came from the kitchen and the oven wasn’t turned on.”

Babs exclaimed, “I knew I was forgetting something!  We can go down and start the roast and then we can do our Bible Study at the kitchen table.  Wait!  You check on the roast while I get dressed.  I’ll meet you there.”

I chuckled, “Yes, dear.”  I went to the kitchen and checked to make sure she had properly seasoned everything.  She had the standard pot roast started, everything except turning on the oven, but if the kids did not show up until mid-afternoon, we’d be ready.  I think she found the recipe online.  Other than watching the breakfast ladies at the various hotels, I doubt if she knew how to cook.  ‘Other living’ hardly have to eat.

With everything cooking, I went to the bedroom, and I got the Bible.  When I returned to the kitchen, Babs was sitting there ready for the Bible study.

She asked, “Harold, what is home?”

“I am sure you looked up the definition.” I suggested.

She nodded eagerly, “The place where you live permanently.  Or if you need assistance people can put you in a ‘home.’  But, Harold, no one lives permanently here on this world, except God, but He is a spirit.  He doesn’t need a house.  The whole universe is His home.  So, the dictionary didn’t help much.”

I smiled, “Babs, I live on the road more than I live here.  But this is my residence for the majority of the duration of my life.  This house makes me feel a sense of permanence.  And comparing this house to any hotel out there in this country, I have spent the night more days than any of those hotels.  So, for a feeling of permanence, knowing that each human is only here for a short time, it is home.  The house had been in the family for two generations, and either Morrie or Villie will inherit the house.  Thus, if they keep it, it could become an ancestral home.  I am thinking Villie is the best bet.  Pastors go from church to church and this house could mean permanence for them.  It is also the place where I have all my stuff, and I thank you for the work you did last night.  I would have never gotten that done because the house would be occupied so seldom with me working on the road.”

Babs asked, “But this is supposed to be a Bible study.  What does the Bible say?”

I replied, “The first reference to ‘home’ in the NIV is in Genesis 18.  Three men come to visit Abraham on their way to Sodom to destroy Sodom.  One of the three is the Lord.  The other men were probably angels.  Abraham argues and bargains with God, arguing that if there were just ten righteous men in Sodom, God would not destroy it, but the only ones that were saved were Lot and his two daughters.  Even then, the daughters tricked their father into getting them pregnant and from those two children, we get the Moabites and the Ammonites, two persistent enemies of the Israelites.  But back to the reference to home.  The end of the chapter said that the men continued on their journey and Abraham went back home.  Where was home?”

Babs answered with a question, “In a tent?  That doesn’t seem much like home.”

I smiled, “But that is all he had.  He was wealthy in servants and livestock, but he bought a small bit of land to bury Sarah when she died.  Abraham had no permanence.  So the dictionary is wrong on three counts.  There is no permanence in life, but possibly as an ancestral home for a few generations.  A home does not need to be permanently in one place, as in a tent moving as the flock looks for fresh pasture or watering holes.  And as a tent, the home does not need to be a house.”

Babs scrunched her nose, “So, the dictionary is completely wrong?”

I laughed, “Maybe, but let’s look at more Scripture and determine our own definition of home.  What does 1 Chronicles 17:9-10 have to say about “home” for Israel.”

Babs thought for a second.  She said, “I also went through your library last night and I read three different translations of the Bible.  That is confusing me.  Why are there so many?”

I snickered, “Maybe that can be in a future Bible study.”

Babs said, “Okay, but 1 Chronicles 17:9-10 talks about a safe place where they won’t be bothered, where enemies will not oppress them.  That sounds like Heaven, not like any place here.”

I chuckled, “You may be right, but it could be the millennial reign of Jesus.  For a thousand years, the enemies of the Jews will be subdued, but in the spirit, rather than the literal translation, a ‘home’ from these verses could be considered a place where you feel safe.  It is very sad when some people do not live in a home where they feel safe.”

Babs asked, “Why don’t they move?”

I sighed, “Usually, they are too poor to do so.  They could be physically unable to move.  It is a logistical nightmare when a hurricane is approaching.  First, the track of the hurricane is not known exactly.  But if the elderly that are on oxygen or something else that is life sustaining…  If they have to relocate, it is hard to pack up their equipment.  More time is needed and sometimes, time is what they do not have.”

Babs had wet eyes, “Oh, I see.”

I continued, “Okay, how did Jacob decide in Genesis 25:37 to pitch his tent near Mamre?”

Babs smiled, “It’s where Abraham and Issac had lived in their tents from time to time.”

I nodded, “We get that ancestral connection, or family home, even when the structure is a tent.  You have an emotional connection to a place, not necessarily a building.  That can represent home.  Since my grandparents came to the USA and settled in Tracy, anywhere in Tracy could be considered ‘home.’  Understand?”

Babs nodded and smiled.

“And now how does the book of Ruth, chapter three, start?” I asked.

Babs answered, “Naomi is talking about a ‘home’ but really she is trying to get Ruth married to Boaz.  Oh, the mayor of Tracy is named Boaz.  Was he named for the Boaz in the book of Ruth?”

I nodded, “Yes, I read that in the news.  But what does Naomi, whether talking about a building, a place, or a husband…  How does Naomi qualify ‘home’?”

Babs smiled, “A place or with a person where you are provided for.”

I reached out and held Babs’ hand.  “Okay, now you can tell me what the Bible says a home is.”

Babs scrunched her nose and thought for maybe thirty seconds.  “A home is where you feel safe, and you are provided for.  It does not need to be permanent or even a building.  You could just be with your spouse, but if the place is where your parents or grandparents lived, there is a deeper sense of ‘home’ in that general location.”

I started to get a few tears.  “You are so right.  When my wife went with me on those business trips and we stayed at one hotel for a week, she would always say to me as I walked into the hotel room, ‘Welcome home.’  This house was home, but home was where my wife and I were together.  And now, it is getting to be where you and I are together.  So, Babs, welcome home.”

She got up from the table.  She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.  I definitely felt a little warmth.

And while my two children were there that afternoon, they talked to Babs as if she had always been living at the house.  Neither of them recognized her as the doll Morrie had bought or Villie had clothed.

When they left, Babs leaned in closely and said, “See there, Harold.  Jesus said to not worry.  Our first meeting with your children was great!”

I asked, “But how did they not recognize you?  How did they greet you as if you had always been here?”

Babs snickered, “1, 2, 3.”  Then we sang together, “I don’t know!”

Credits

All these conversations remind me of my conversations with my wife.  We would talk about anything and everything.  And most of the time, it sounded like a discussion in a Sunday school class.

My wife and I often said that we felt home was West Germany.  I had the best job assignment that I ever had with bosses that loved the work I was doing.  We had neighbors, due to the hardship, that we relied upon and vice versa.  Safe? No.  Near biological family? No. But our bond with our neighbors was like a family bond.  When we realized that we had lived in Pennsylvania, in the same house, for a longer time than any other residence for either of us, we reluctantly started considering it home.  I provided for my wife, but at times we have not felt safe.  Yet, for our ashes, they will be permanently near my present location, until God raises our ashes from the ground.

And the photo above is the tip of the crafting iceberg. In those plastic tubes and various bags, there is embroidery supplies, rubber stamping supplies, boxes of craft paints (both of clothing and canvas), knitting supplies, crochet supplies, and stickers and other embellishments (maybe to decorate a greeting card or the envelope. This is the tip of the iceberg, when I am done, the room will be filled unless I get a buyer, or taker, for the stuff.

Soli Deo Gloria.  Only to God be the Glory.