House Vs. Home

I was talking to an old buddy of mine yesterday who told me about a text he received from his adult son. The text came in the form of a question. It read, “Dad, do you know the difference between a house and a home?”

At that point, my pal began to feel pretty good about how he had raised his male progeny. As he swelled with pride and emotion, he began to phone his offspring. When he got through, he said, “Okay. What’s the difference between a house and a home?”

The Voice on the Other End

Naturally, he expected to hear the old saw, “A house is where you live…a home is where you love.” That, however, is not what the voice on the other end conveyed. The first line was there—A house is where you live. The second line had a slightly different ring to it. His son said, “A home is where my sister and I are going to put you when you’re old.”

He was kidding, of course (well, I think he was), but there may come a time when that actually might come to pass. These things are, on occasion, unavoidable. My lovely Bride often tells me that she has a home all picked out for me. If that time ever comes, I hope she can afford it.

We always kid around about getting old, but the whole subject is deadly serious. We’re all headed in the direction of old. Some of us are, in fact, already there. We do what we can and hope for the best. Eventually, the best we can hope for will be to die well.

I’m No Moses

Moses was a good example of someone who died well. The Bible tells us he was 120 years old. His eyesight was still good, and he was still strong. The circumstances surrounding his actual death are clouded in mystery, but it’s apparent that the Lord, himself, buried him. Not too many folks get the Heavenly Father as a pall bearer, but Moses was a special guy.

I’d like to think of myself as a special guy as well, but I’m not looking to live for 120 years. I already need reading glasses and I’m certainly not as strong as I used to be. Dying well might not be in the cards for me. Still, one can hope. (Right in the midst of writing this piece, my lovely Bride asked me to move our recliner across the living room. Having done it, I can tell you right now that I’m no Moses.)

Scripture tells us that Moses died and was buried in Moab. I checked it out, and Moab is the mountainous region of modern-day Jordan. I quickly realized that I had been there a few years ago. I was still in pretty good shape at that time, so there was no thought of getting buried there. If I ever go back, however, it might be as good a place as any. If it was good enough for Moses…

[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]

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