Home

January 2013 is starting off to be one of the strangest months in the history of the Anderson family.

The Family on the way to SchoolRenee’, Jonathan and Cori are all New Yorkers for a month, taking an intensive course on teaching English as a Foreign Language (for those in the know, it’s the CELTA certification which is a universally helpful and recognized certification). I am in Mongolia, back to work at the Grain of Wheat Community Center and teaching. While the familial separation is strange, I think the stranger thing is we all really feel that we’re not at home.

Home. Where is that exactly? I can honestly say that I don’t know anymore. I used think it was in Tennessee. However, when I go back there I’m living out of a suitcase, staying temporarily in someone’s house or in some hotel room. In fact, whenever we’re in the US … we’re always living out of a suitcase, even when staying with family. It’s temporary. Always temporary.

Is home in Mongolia? Well, sort of. But not really. We have lovely friends and good relationships with many Mongolian people. Yet, I’m always a foreigner. I will always be a foreigner. Even if I speak the language and understand a bit of the culture … I’m still a white guy living in Asia. The reality is, there’s no real expectation for any more than that.

So where is home? I don’t exactly know anymore … but I do know it’s not on this fleeting place we call earth. Larry Norman had it right. We are Only Visiting .

Golomt in name onlyThere is a Mongolian word that expresses this. We don’t really have an equivolent in English. The word is “Golomt” (not to be confused with any character in “The Lord of the Rings”). The word speaks of the “place you come home to”. It’s not necessarily your “homeland” or “the place you were born” or even “the place where you grew up”. It’s the place you call home. It's an ultimate sort of word to me. Ironically enough, the apartment complex we live in is called “Golomt” … but I think that's mainly because of the bank located here which is called by the same name.

As believers and followers of Jesus, there’s this Abrahamic lifestyle of living by faith that must be embraced. I’m not comfortable with it. Yet, there’s something adventerous and joyful about it, as well. Something daring. Something crazy. Like Bilbo Baggins leaving the Shire without his pocket handkerchief. It sometimes feels not doable.

But it is doable.

It’s doable because there is hope for a Golomt that we have yet to see and have never visited. But when we arrive there I think we will see so clearly … this is the “Home” I’ve always wanted. This is the “Home” I’ve been looking for all my life. This the "Home" to which all of the small pictures of "home" ultimately point.

I look forward to that, especially while traveling through this season.

For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God. (Hebrews 11:10 ESV)

Where is your Golomt? Where is Home for you? Please feel free to talk about "Home" in the comments.

For fun ... here is a little video that I did while Renee' and the kids were away. I shot my day with my iPhone. My Mongolian friends said it was a sad story about a lonely man and a dog. Maybe it's just a little insight into my day ... I'll let you decide.