Begin with two minutes of silence and stillness before God.

I've decided that moving might be one of the clearest evidences of humanity's fallen condition. You start out with optimism, but by the second day, you're knee-deep in boxes labeled "Miscellaneous," and you begin questioning all your life choices. Somewhere around hour six, when you're trying to fit a sofa through a doorway designed by a sadist, you realize something profound: we were not made for temporary living.

Every move I've ever made has carried a moment when I thought, "I just want to be home." Not the current house, or the next one, but that deep, soul-level home we all seem to long for. Maybe you've felt it too - the quiet ache that shows up after a breakup, or when a dream job turns out to be a bad dream. It's that nagging sense that even our best days still leave us wanting something more.

Revelation 21 gives us that "something more." John describes a new heaven and a new earth—God making His home with us. It's not just a spiritual afterthought or a celestial vacation spot. It's real, physical, permanent—no boxes, no leases, no movers. The old order of pain, death, and disappointment is gone. The One seated on the throne declares, "Behold, I am making all things new."

Notice, He doesn't say, "I'm making all new things." He's not discarding creation; He's redeeming it. He's taking the brokenness, the tears, the confusion, and transforming them into something beautiful. That means your present story, with all its dents and detours, still matters. God isn't starting over from scratch; He's finishing what He began in you.

A friend once told me about her grandmother, who, in her final days, kept talking about "getting ready for her new house." At first, the family thought she was confused. But then her grandmother said, with a smile, "I've lived in many places, but this time I'm finally going home." She wasn't afraid. She was expectant. She knew what John saw wasn't fantasy; it was the future.

Maybe life feels like one long moving day right now. Boxes everywhere. Pieces that don't fit. A deep weariness that no amount of sleep seems to fix. Revelation 21 reminds us that our longing for home isn't weakness; it's a memory genetically passed down to us through many generations. Somewhere in the soul, we still remember Eden. And someday, by God's grace, we'll step into the New Jerusalem and realize that every ache, every loss, every tear was leading us there.

Application:

Live today like someone who's packing light for the trip home. Don't cling so tightly to what won't last. When frustration, heartbreak, or grief knock at your door, remember—they're only temporary houseguests. The day is coming when God Himself will wipe away every tear, and you'll finally hear the words that end all moving days: "Welcome home."

Take two minutes to reflect in silence.

Reflection:

Use the S.O.A.P. Method to study God's Word.

• SCRIPTURE: What stands out to you in today's passage?
• OBSERVATION: What is this text saying? What is the context? How does it fit with the verses before and after it? Are there any commands, instructions, or promises?
• APPLICATION: How can you apply this verse to your life? What does this mean today? What is God saying to you?
• PRAYER: Respond to the passage in prayer. Ask God to help you apply this truth to your life and spend some time listening to what He may be telling you.

Be Generous 2025

On Be Generous Sunday, November 30th, through Tuesday, December 2nd, 100% of all financial gifts will go toward funding three special projects to ignite ministry and lead more people to know, love, and follow Jesus! For more information, visit venturechurch.org/begenerous.