It may not be my House, but it is my Home

It is not uncommon, I have experienced, to hear people speak of the difference between a house and a home. A house being described more in terms of the physical structure, while a home denotes something more experiential or with more emotional value. For me, these two words have taken on significant meaning since as an adult, I have always rented the space in which I live. For me, a house is something you can own, it can be purchased, while a home can, and often must, be created anywhere.

I have now lived in 6 (or 8 depending how I count) different rental spaces in the past 18 years of my life. It has often been the case for me, that people ask me when I am going "home." I understand what they mean. They want to know when I will be returning to visit my parent's house. And sometimes I do think of that space as my home as well. Yet it is my home in terms of memory, it is my home in terms of my family of origin, it is not, however, my home in terms of the space in which I have settled, my sanctuary, where my being resides and lives. Renting space does not mean I have no home. Renting space means I don't own a house. There is a massive distinction it seems to me.

The people I have encountered over the years have understood this distinction to various degrees. Good friends  who have visited our home (the homes Alicia and I have created) have certainly entered into those spaces with a sense of respect and honouring of the home we have created. Occasionally the owners of those spaces have also shown that respect. However, not all people have done so. To some, our space is just a temporary flop house of sorts. It's where we dump our stuff in between where we are now and the permanent life we might someday have. The space is not ours, it belongs to someone else, and thus it is not our house, and there is no home. It is simply space with stuff in it. This whole idea of not owning a house goes hand in hand with not being an adult. Adults, own houses, adults get married, adults are employed or raise children. Thus, I am not an adult, and I have no home. This is demeaning.

Alicia and I are both adults and we have a home. We have had 4 homes together. Each one has been a holy space. Each one has been created with intention, gently cared for (or not so gently depending on what was required!), laboured in, cried in, laughed in, prayed in. Each space has been one in which we have lived and grown. Each one has seen moments both holy and mundane.  We delight in inviting people into our home, we delight in spending time together in our home, we delight in dreaming about what our home might look like in the future. And when others dismiss our home as simply a space that they own, or a space that doesn't matter because it is temporary, I feel saddened. Saddened because what we have worked so hard to create and the treasured life that has been embodied in the space has not been respected, but also saddened because those individuals have missed the gifts that are always available when you enter into a home. 

I would love to someday own a house in which I can create a home. I feel this particularly keenly since I grew up on a farm and would love to have land on which to settle and grow things. Since this has not yet been possible, I have needed to learn to embrace the act of homemaking wherever I am. For many people, this is the only way they will ever have a home. It is unfair to equate having a home with owning a house. And if each one of us has to wait until we are fully settled in a house that we own, a house that we will remain in for decades, until we can have a home, then that leaves a whole lot of people "homeless." I could not have lived well over the past number of years if I had not embraced the space in which I found myself and learned to call it home.

I always wish I had something wise or witty to say at the end of these posts. But all I have is a reminder to respect the space in which people find themselves, the physical space, the life space, whatever.  Please, especially this Christmas, as you meet up with people who may not fit the mould of married, employed, owner of property, raiser of children, please do not make the mistake of assuming that they are incomplete, that they don't have a meaningful life, that they don't have a home. Value them, hear their stories, receive the gifts that they have to offer. They are many.