
For some of you, this won’t ring any bells. For others of you, it will be a resounding siren, ringing lots of bells.
You are familiar with the man ache, the restless longing to belong to someone, to feel cherished by one man who can warm you with his stability and protection. You have wrestled many a time with your own fears, and ended up drowning it out by watching Jane Auston repeats.
I wish I could say I was strong, and confident in the Lord 100% of the time, but that definitely isn’t true.
This feeling is familiar to me as well.
But we really aren’t longing for a man at all. We’re longing for home.
Not the home where you sleep at night, but the place that you were made for. No amount of chic cafe visits, no parties, no level of financial independence, cool friends, positive self-talk or even the “dream guy” will satisfy this ache.
If chick flicks and chocolate isn’t the answer- is there another option?
As Connally Gilliam writes, in her book Revelations of a Single Woman
There is another alternative, It is not an easy alternative, but it’s straightforward enough. It is to simply let the ache work on use, shape us, and thereby do its job. When we let the ache become a part of our story and not something to be conquered through striving or numbed by our narcotic of choice, it can serve us well. It can propel us forward, paradoxically, in life-giving-even joy-giving-ways. It can remind us that we are made for something more-that this life is not all it was intended to be- and it’s good to want more. It can remind us that our longing for intimacy, connection, and home is real; it’s a party of our DNA, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It can prompt us to look at our lives honestly and face current realities head-on. But most of all, if we can “walk with the ache, even when it hurts,” as my friend Caroline likes to say, something amazing can occur.
. It is in the asking, in midst of the fearful place, where we have a chance to believe and discover that some kind of home is out there, and it can be found by anyone, starting now…
So for now, I recognize my homesickness as something through which God is going to walk with me, in ways I think will surprise me for the good. And when the ache is too much-when I just have to plop down on the floor and burst out crying-I’ll again get his help to keep walking, realizing that homesickness is simply a reminder. My longings are in line with my design; I’m created for the secure joys of coming home…
Jesus has gone on ahead to get the house ready for you, me and a slew of other unknown-to-me people to come home. Maybe it’s a strange concept to some folks, but something about this party grows increasingly amazing to me the more I travel. In the last book of the Bible, this homecoming is compared to a wedding and reception of celestial proportions. It’s the marriage of Jesus and his people.
It’s time to see our longing for what they truly are, redirect them to our heavenly home. Even if we never get married on this earth, we will someday. There will be a wedding. 
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Many thanks to my cousin Heidi who graciously typed up several pages from the book as an encouragement to me a few days back.
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