Counting homes

Have you ever tried counting all the homes in which you've lived? It might be easy for you, but for me, it's quite a challenge. I thought I'd try that today.

My first dwelling place was my mother's womb, of course, I have to count that as number one. Side note: just before my sixth birthday, I clearly remember asking my mother what her baby would look like. I wanted to be mentally prepared. I had an intuitive understanding and belief that my sibling was just as alive and well as I was, growing out of sight but evidenced by my mom's enlarged belly. That awesome, "hidden" place of abode God prepared for each of us, including His Son, was designed right there in the garden when He took that one single rib to fashion Eve. He spoke everything else into existence but used something physical to create a woman. I think that says a lot, but I digress. I will save this topic for another blog post. 

I was brought home from a small hospital in Chattanooga, Tennessee. At two, we moved back to my parent's home state of Texas. From there, we moved into our first apartment in Kowloon, Hong Kong. After the third year, it was another apartment in the New Territories region, so that's five homes counting in utero. 

The next house was provided by our home church in Texas. We lived a year in the missionary house on the church property. After that it was back to Hong Kong. I'll count house number 7 & 8 together since they were both in the same neighborhood, called Fairview Park. Between those two homes, my parents bought a 36-foot-long trailer we pulled behind our suburban for six months to traverse across the United States visiting and updating our supporters. That narrow trailer home found itself hooked up in the San Francisco Bay Area during the big earthquake of '89 when the Bay Bridge collapsed. It also found itself parked just outside of Canada so my family and I could view the majesty of the Niagara Falls. That adventurous home on wheels was house number 9. 

We lived in two, three story villas. Our final home in HK was a larger property dad thought we'd be in longer than we did. I lived in four apartments as a single adult, always with a sister or roommate. 

As a new bride, I moved into house number 17 for a whole month. The timing was just right for our first PCS together. Montana gave us base housing, then we became homeowners in Denver. After that, we lived in a high-rise apartment over in South Korea. By then, we'd already lived in temporary lodging several times, which I won't even count. All my military friends understand this is just a part of life. 

House number 20 & 21 were in California. One Alabama house in between those. So that brings me to the final house in which we reside presently facing the spectacular Pikes Peak. At last, I reach the end of counting, until we pack up and move Lord willing this summer! Twenty-three, you have been monumental; a turning point, if you will. 

In all these places of residence, the most crucial has been knowing where my soul finds rest. Where do I ultimately belong? Psalm 90:1-2 says it perfectly. "Lord, You have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever You had formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, You are God."