Far From Home
In 2021, my husband and I traveled to Belize for a week-long vacation. I had enjoyed exploring new places across the globe and this was no different, that is, until we prepared to return home. With travel restrictions still in place, what we thought would be a formality turned into an eleven-day extended stay, in quarantine.
At the airport, we gave reluctant goodbyes to fellow travelers and drove to a local resort perched on the banks of the Belize River. As we unloaded belongings (again), I wiped sweat from my forehead and looked around. Swirling murky green river waters, scaly iguanas sprawled on the lawn, and eerie guttural cries of howler monkeys resting high in nearby trees reminded me that we were far from home. Even the stray cat who wandered up onto our porch eyed me as if to say, “What are you doing here?” Accommodations were modest but clean and comfortable. Tropical surroundings would have normally been a delight for this nature-lover. The staff were very kind. Yet I couldn’t muster up any enjoyment.
Throughout Scripture, from time to time God’s people found themselves to be—literally or figuratively—out of place. David was one of those. As a young boy tending sheep near his Bethlehem home, he was suddenly summoned and anointed with oil—having been hand-picked by the LORD to be Israel’s next king.1 But kingship would not always guarantee David a warm welcome or the comforts of a plush palace.
In Psalm 63, we read words David penned from the Judean desert while hiding out—either from his own renegade son, or an enraged king Saul.2 Some three millennia later, the psalm remains so relevant. I find David’s situation relatable. Maybe you will as well. As we unpack the first verse, there are treasures to be found which can minister to and guide us through our own ‘far from home’ experiences.
“You, God, are my God,
earnestly I seek you;
I thirst for you,
my whole being longs for you,
in a dry and parched land
where there is no water.”
Psalm 63:1, NIV
The psalmist’s surroundings aren’t difficult to picture. We might imagine dusty desert earth, cracked from lack of rain. Along the way, David had likely learned who and what had proven to be “broken cisterns.”3 Uprooted and on the run, he directed his gaze toward God. As enemies pursued, he pressed into the presence of the One about whom he had also written “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?”4 Perhaps, as he and his men trekked mountainous terrain, it was the sight of pagan high places which drove David to proclaim who he worshipped. His God was a strength and a stronghold, supreme, yet personal and ever-present—even if, even when, even there. For this king, the desert became a sanctuary.5
David left no doubt as to who he looked to amidst this lonely setting. But he also expressed how he sought Him:
“…earnestly* I seek you…” - The Hebrew word for this sort of seeking conveys an early, focused pursuit. I imagine David, in pre-dawn hours, rising to commune with his Creator, ahead of terrors that the day would bring. His way of seeking shows us Who occupied first place in David’s mind and heart.
“I thirst* for you…” - The original language implies deep spiritual desire. Surely David became parched as he traveled. Steep dry ravines would have reminded him where water had been. Perhaps here, the Spirit spoke of a deeper thirst which only God could quench—with water that would last.
“…my whole being longs* for you…” Throughout the Old Testament, this Hebrew word only occurs here. Its meaning goes beyond simple desire. This kind of longing is an intense, whole-body yearning—physical, emotional, and spiritual.
I wonder if, out in this middle-of-nowhere setting, David recalled days (and years) gone by. I wonder if he was reminded once again that as long as he had the LORD’s guiding presence, he lacked nothing.6 I wonder if this experience brought memories of his younger self as an overlooked son wandering quiet fields under starlit skies—just a boy, his sheep, and his Shepherd.
In recent months I watched my dear mother’s health decline. On the inside, I pushed back and fought the intense overwhelm as kind caregivers and various hospice personnel entered her home. Suddenly things seemed so unfamiliar.
Now, as I peer through the thick fog of grief to get my bearings, I think of that sultry summer in Belize—how I wrestled with God through those eleven desert-like days. I remember hearing Him whisper that the point of it all was not to feel at home, but to be longing for Him. I sense Him now inviting me to let this season, too, be a sanctuary.
As I write today, I think of others who may be experiencing the unfamiliar—feeling ‘far from home.’
In our uprooted, out-of-place situations may God’s Word ground us. May we leave space for lament, and find comfort in knowing that who God was for David, He is for us.
1 See 1 Samuel 16:1-13
2 See 1 Samuel, ch.21-24; 2 Samuel 15:1-23
3 See Jeremiah 2:13
4 Psalm 139:7, NIV
5 See Psalm 46:1-3
6 See 1 Samuel 13:14; Psalm 23:1
*Italics mine
