by John Bishop, Director of Spiritual Formation, based on this week's MS/HS Chapel

Last week, I described the tension of driving a car that was clearly breaking down while climbing a mountain on

vacation. Our destination was my friend’s parents’ house, or as it’s known to us, The Bear’s Den. At the top of the winding road that leads to the house stands a wrought-iron gate with bears cast into the bars. Hand-carved wooden bears stand guard at the entrance, and occasionally there are actual bears disappearing into the woods as you pass through.

For nearly eight years, we’ve spent the week after Christmas at The Bear's Den. It has become familiar territory, filled with shared meals, stories, and comforting traditions. So, when our struggling car finally sputtered around the last corner and the gate came into view, our entire family erupted in unison: “We made it.”

The relief was immediate. The fear of being stranded faded, the tension drained from our shoulders, and what replaced it was something deeper, a genuine sense of arrival. Ahh…we're home. After a fifteen-hour travel day, that moment felt like an emotional exhale. To make it even better, our friend’s mom had her famous spaghetti waiting and made sure everyone had a full plate the moment we walked through the door.

There is no feeling quite like going home. And conversely, there are few pains as deep as the ache of wanting to be home and not being able to get there. That hollow homesickness—the emptiness that settles in our gut—is a beacon calling us back to what is familiar, safe, and secure. It is the longing for belonging, and it is an echo straight out of Eden.

God is our Father. He made us in His image, and from the moment we rebelled against Him in the garden, He has been working relentlessly to bring us back home. In short, God leaves the light on. He has the table set, the meal ready, and He waits at the gate for us to return.

We were never meant to navigate life alone, grinding through its inevitable struggles without direction or hope. Through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, the way home has been made clear. Even if we arrive broken and battered, like the prodigal son, or like my own check-engine-light version, when we finally round the corner, we find God standing at the gate, ready to welcome us home.

Don’t accept the lies that try to convince us that success in this life is what ultimately matters, or that lasting joy can be found in material things. Those lies are whispered by the same forked tongue that deceived Adam and Eve in the garden, promising freedom while delivering exile. Instead, come home to Jesus. In Him, we find not only forgiveness, but restoration, belonging, and the new life we were created for.