Colleen Elisabeth Chao is an editor and author. She enjoys dark-dark chocolate, side-splitting laughter, and half-read books piled bedside. She makes her home near Boise, Idaho, with her husband Eddie, their son Jeremy, and Willow the dog. 







I’ve moved fifteen times in fourteen years, and here I am again—purging bedrooms and packing cardboard boxes. Pretty sure I could do this in my sleep.

But this nomadic existence has been good for my soul. Yes, it’s exhausting at times—and I wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to stay put in one place for a nice long decade. But then, I’m so grateful for the reminder that this isn’t my ultimate destination.

This is just a pit stop.

So today I wrap my arms around the beauty of uprooting once again. These rooms turned inside-out are proof that everything here is transitory. This isn’t Home—this house on a tiny plot of cement in the ‘burbs, riddled with black mold, cranky pipes, and a negligent landlord. With its weeds and wasp nests and bugs that eat up my potted plants.

Home is on the horizon but not here yet—in a land that won’t burn, quake, erupt, decay, or flood.

Home is an intimate yet infinite affair, custom-built by a Creator whose designs are more captivating than any ever seen, whose architecture is unrivaled in all of history.

Home is where every good desire is fulfilled, every beautiful dream comes true, every breathtaking wonder is realized—because in it…

“God’s dwelling is with humanity, and he will live with them. They will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them and will be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; grief, crying, and pain will be no more, because the previous things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:3-4)

Home is where we finally get to be perfectly happy.

And so even the most luxurious houses and cities here in this temporary land look like child’s play compared to what’s coming.

As our family prepares to move into a much smaller space so we can pay off medical bills and live more simply after a cumbrous two years—we realize what a gift we’ve been given. We get to practice letting go of this extraneous stuff (stuff that just breaks down, rusts, and fades anyway, right?) and to remember the “eternal pleasures” to come—pleasures that will never be destroyed, in a land where we will finally feel wholly at home.

“By faith Abraham…was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God.”

“They saw [God’s promises] from a distance, greeted them, and confessed that they were foreigners and temporary residents on the earth. Now those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. … They now desire a better place—a heavenly one. Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.” –select verses from Hebrews 11