We all want to go home

Last night, my friend Buddy had some tickets to the big Nashville Rising concert and shared one with me. Imagine it: a sold-out (and I mean NOT an empty seat) Bridgestone Arena, a lineup that included a who’s who of contemporary country artists, some CCM favorites, and the likes of ZZ Top and Lynyrd Skynyrd. A weird mix? Yes. A completely awesome concert? Absolutely.

One of the highlights of the night was Miranda Lambert singing her song “The House that Built Me.” I will admit that I haven’t listened to a lot of Miranda. I mean, I know who she is and everything, but she’s never made it on to my iPod. But a few weeks ago, when I was driving home to the house that built me in Missouri, I heard that song for the first time. And I will admit that as I crossed the Mississippi River on that narrow bridge and entered my home state, I was crying. What a beautiful song!

Last night, as she took center stage with just a mic stand and her voice to sing “The House that Built Me,” silence descended on the completely full arena. And as she sang, slowly and surely the audience picked up the song. By the end, the entire place was singing along, not loudly, not overpowering Miranda, but singing along just the same, ferverently, reverently, savoring the lyrics. It was a magical moment when I just stopped to gaze around at the people in the seats all around me and felt a kinship.

But why does this song strike a chord in so many people? What is it about a song of going to back to the house that you grew up in that causes an entire arena full of people to sing along? My theory? We’re all searching for something. The reason Miranda’s lyrics resound with us is that at the cry of our hearts, we’re all searching for something that will fill that emptiness inside of us and remind us who we are and how to live. Sometimes, we think it’s our childhood home; sometimes we recognize that what we’re really searching for is Jesus, a relationship with God, and a heavenly home where we’ll know exactly what we were created to do.

So, Miranda, thank you for an amazing song. And thank you even more reminding me to seek my worth, purpose, and hope in my Heavenly Father. Thank you for reminding me that it’s alright to ache for home, even if it is the one you’ve never seen before (heaven).

The House That Built Me

Tom Douglas / Allen Shamblin

I know they say you can’t go home again I just had to come back one last time Ma’am I know you don’t know me from Adam But these handprints on the front steps are mine

Up those stairs in that little back bedroom Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar I bet you didn’t know under that live oak My favorite dog is buried in the yard

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it This brokenness inside me might start healing Out here it’s like I’m someone else I thought that maybe I could find myself If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave Won’t take nothing but a memory From the house that built me

Mama cut out pictures of houses for you From Better Homes and Gardens magazine Plans were drawn and concrete poured Nail by nail and board by board Daddy gave life to mama’s dream

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it This brokenness inside me might start healing Out here it’s like I’m someone else I thought that maybe I could find myself If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave Won’t take nothing but a memory From the house that built me

You leave home and you move on and you do the best you can I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it This brokenness inside me might start healing Out here it’s like I’m someone else I thought that maybe I could find myself If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave Won’t take nothing but a memory From the house that built me

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