We are a walking contradiction of a family. For years, we have been enamored with the Tiny House movement, even to the point of the boys drawing up plans for their dream tiny homes. However, when packing for one night of camping only 20 minutes away, we barely fit into our large car.
So much for packing light and only bringing the necessities. Among our necessities included six Nerf guns, five books, four air mattresses, three bikes, two Rubix cubes, and a partridge in a pear tree.
Perhaps because of my three-day endeavor to pack for less than 24 hours of camping or perhaps because of the migrant caravan, my mind and heart have been meditating on traveling light.
Christ was the Creator of everything: every shell that would shelter a snail, every rock that would become a den, every tree that would become a hollow or a plank for a home.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. John 1:1-3.
Even more so, He made His home eternally within the perfection of the perfect love, security, and shalom of the Trinity. Of this perfect Triune home, every yurt, cabin, nest and hive is a tiny, truncated picture.
Yet He left it all to come tent among us, to live, in many ways, as a homeless migrant. He packed light so that we might see the Light of the World. A light we rejected.
The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. John 1:9-11.
Yet, because He traveled light to come bear the heaviest burden, we are enabled to receive Him and learn to live as He lived, laying down both blessings and burdens that we might have free hands to carry others to Him.
Looking around the throne room,
Thinking about what to bring,
His royal rights He did not pack,
The righteous and rightful king.
Bustling and bristling about the place,
The very pregnant Mary prepares.
A sudden census trip to Bethlehem
Caught she and Joseph unawares.
Packing like the Son she carried,
Mary trusted in God to provide.
The first night as family of three,
Among the animals they did reside.
When a sudden flight to Egypt
Jesus’ safety did necessitate,
To leave it all behind in trust,
Yet again they did not hesitate.
The foxes have holes, the birds nests,
Yet the young man Christ did roam.
The Creator of every rock and refuge,
A migrant without His own home.
The One who always traveled light,
Our bottomless burden did carry.
Because He bore the weighty cross,
In God’s presence we may tarry.
Without a souvenir, empty-handed,
The Savior to His Home ascended.
Then emptying His hands again,
From Him the Spirit descended.
As pilgrims He bids us follow Him,
Open-handed and open-hearted.
Traveling light in earthly plight,
‘Til to our home we’ve departed.
In a nation burdened by the weight of unimaginable blessing, may we learn to pack lighter and to live as those whose true Home is wherever our Christ is!