When I think of the term “homeless,” I often think of a person who simply doesn’t have a permanent roof over his/her head. But upon further reflection, I realize that some people who might be labeled homeless have a more genuine sense of home than some people who have mansions with all the bells and whistles.

For one thing, home has to do with identity. Some folks have felt a lack of identity because they don’t know about their family’s full story and their ancestral roots. Others feel rootless because their work requires that they relocate frequently. Still others ignore an inner burning and questions we are all hard-wired with from birth: the concept of spiritual origin as the foundation for spiritual wholeness and well-being.

For another thing, home has to do with possessions. Those may be material possessions, showing our style and income (or lack of those things!) by what our living space or bag of belongings holds. And they may be intangible possessions like virtues and memories – or those things as they are tied to tangible items we will never throw out.

Having just joined the ranks of home “owners” across America, while unpacking boxes in my new place, I was overcome by a different sense of home than I have ever experienced. Just Jesus, me, and my guinea pig. And it was good. I looked down at the items in my hands and surrounding me. Artwork crafted by my then-younger nieces. A gift from a former student reminding me to always remain hopeful. Copies of beloved books given at Christmases past. Soul-filling quotations scribbled on fragments of paper. I hung things on walls and set things on shelves. I put other treasures in closets to pull out at later times, when I will need to remember and count my blessings again.

Home is about identity. And when I believe that God held me in His mind before time began and has held me in His hand since the moment of my conception, I realize that anywhere I go with Him is home to me – and that home with Him is my ultimate home. So I can rejoice in the home of now and the home yet to come.

Home is about possessions. But going through this recent move helped me remember that Emma’s precious drawing is just as valuable to me as the deed to the new house. The latter is proof that – for a little while – I can rightfully dwell here. The former is proof that I love and I am loved – always.