“Sojourners; you are sojourners”. That is what I heard in my spirit after asking God where to start with Him. I am starting a new chapter in life with Him, along with my new husband. We married on 12/31/21. In that short time since then, I’ve sold my house and moved into a temporary housing arrangement. We are starting the process of building a house. In the move I found that my daily time with God has been sporadic and even non-existent some days, except for the on-the-go prayers and short devotionals spent with my husband. My daily quiet time with God has become necessary for my well-being and sense of stability at this stage of life. So as I re-calibrate in my temporary housing, I am asking God, “Okay, now what?”.
As a sojourner, I am reminded of Abraham who was instructed to leave his land, and all that was familiar to him, in order to follow after God and the blessings that were to be his inheritance
I’m finding that the house building process has many spiritual metaphors and life lessons in it. As a sojourner, I am reminded of Abraham who was instructed to leave his land, and all that was familiar to him, in order to follow after God and the blessings that were to be his inheritance. In faith, he packed and moved. So many facts and parts of the story are left out in the short chapters and books of the Bible. For example, we don’t know the full context of how the days were spent on his move, or of his daily attitude. We only know the highlights. That’s why it’s easy to project into the stories of the Bible from our own life and experiences. We easily project from the wellspring of our own lives to include our amount of faith and depth of experiences we have had, or have not had, with God and with His people.
In a quick Google search I find that to be a sojourner means “to spend the day… a temporary resident”. A “temporary resident”; someone who is not tied to one place. There is no sense of permanence. There is a sense of freedom in that, yet, simultaneously there is a lack of sense of belonging. In this time of mental shifting, I am reminded that it is the body of Christ that keeps us tied down to God’s will and displays to us who He is. I see that trying to live life in Christ, without being anchored in Godly loving relationships that hold us accountable, is like setting up a tent without properly staking it into the ground. It wouldn’t be long before the wind would blow it away.
Being a temporary resident seems foreign in a culture where 30-year mortgages are commonplace, and even, seemingly expected, The truth is that even if we, as part of God’s body of believers, live in one house for our entire life we are still a sojourner. This earth is not our home. It is a temporary residence. I cannot grasp eternity even though I’m an eternal being. I know there have been days that felt as though they passed quickly, and days that have felt slow, and seemed to never end. Time appears to be relevant to our excitement, boredom, or other emotions, when in reality it’s relevant to God. A day to Him is as a 1,000 years. I don’t believe this to be literal, rather, a metaphor. In other words, time is only relevant to God’s being. He is eternal and who are we to judge time? We were given the sun, moon, and 24 hours per day for our own benefit, for order, scheduling, and planning.
As a sojourner, time seems to be spent on things that work towards the future. I’m more intentional about my steps and days. I’m not settled, though I’m working towards it. However, the problem with settling is the possibility of getting too comfortable. Being a sojourner is uncomfortable. It’s a time of trials showing you what is convenient, what is necessary, and unnecessary. It’s a time of refinement, reflection, and of cutting loose extra baggage.
I was mute with silence, I held my peace even from good; And my sorrow was stirred up. My heart was hot within me
Earth is a place of soul seeking and for getting our spirits right with God. It’s a preparatory time for our eternal home where we’ll no longer be sojourners. David prayed for wisdom and forgiveness in Psalm 39. It seems he was painfully aware of his humanity and limitations and realized he was just passing through on this earth. He says “I was mute with silence, I held my peace even from good; And my sorrow was stirred up. My heart was hot within me; While I was musing, the fire burned. Then I spoke with my tongue: “Lord, make me to know my end, And what is the measure of my days, That I may know how frail I am. Indeed, You have made my days as handbreadths, And my age is as nothing before You; Certainly every man at his best state is but vapor…(2-5), ”Hear my prayer, O Lord, And give ear to my cry; Do not be silent at my tears; For I am a stranger with You, A sojourner, as all my fathers were. Remove Your gaze from me, that I may regain strength, Before I go away and am no more,” (Ps. 39:12-13). I pray, too, that my strength comes from God as I am a sojourner here and admit my frailty to Him in this earthly journey.
God had a sanctuary built where He could dwell among us as stated in Exodus 25:8: “And let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them.” Christ, later, separated the veil in that holy place, in that sanctuary, so that we can boldly approach the throne of God by faith in His Son. We are now His temple. I like the following teaching that I found online regarding wandering and being a dwelling place of God:
“As the Israelites wandered in the desert, God wanted to inhabit a place with His people” (Exodus 25:8). At that time, the people lived in portable tents, so the presence of God dwelling in the tent of the wilderness tabernacle (Exodus 27:21; 40:34–38). His presence was the guiding force that told the people when to stay put and when to pull up stakes and continue on their journey (Exodus 40:34–38). Later, after the Hebrew people entered the Promised Land and lived in fixed dwellings, God affixed His name to a place, sanctifying Solomon’s temple as the Lord’s holy dwelling place (1 Kings 8:10–11).
In the New Testament, God’s presence was manifested in a new way: in the person of Jesus Christ—the Logos, who is the living, incarnate, eternal Word of God (John 1:1–4, 14–18). The Logos took on human flesh and made His home among us. Through the life and ministry of Jesus Christ, God lived among His people. His name is Immanuel, meaning “God with us” (Isaiah 7:14; Matthew 1:21–23).
Jesus Christ became the new earthly temple of God (John 2:21). “For in Christ lives all the fullness of God in a human body,” says Colossians 2:9 (NLT; see also Colossians 1:19). The complete image of the invisible God is revealed in Jesus our Savior (Colossians 1:15). Yet Christ is only the initial installment of God’s indwelling presence.”
I am reminded that I need the body of Christ and in Him is where I am joined together. I’m built up in love, truth, and held together by grace and His strength. In short, I need Christ in you. You need me, yet not I, but you need Christ in me. It’s humbling. It’s truth. It is the Way. May we walk in transparency and love and be living vessels in His service from one sojourner to another.