Just Passing Through

"This world is not my home,
I'm just a-passin' through."

These words from an old gospel song ring true with me. No matter how attached I get to the four walls of a house, we end up moving. A home is not about location (no matter what the realtors say). What is a home? The people, the time spent as a family, the memories built within those walls.

 I spend too much time involved with the stuff that fills our walls, distracted from the far more important individuals who make up our home. What is all that stuff?

• the couches, the chairs we sit on
• the tables where we eat, learn, play games, sit and talk
• the plates, silverware, bowls and cooking tools we use to prepare and share food together
• the clothes we wear
• the beds where we rest and relax
• the paintings and photos that decorate our walls
• the books we read and talk about
• the computers we work at daily
• and the many miscellaneous memory-making tools, home-making tools

Have you heard Carrie Underwood's song, Temporary Home?
click here to hear it.


Temporary Home Lyrics

Little boy, 6 years old
A little too used to bein' alone.
Another new mom and dad,another school,
Another house that'll never be home.
When people ask him how he likes this place...
He looks up and says, with a smile upon his face,

"This is my temporary home
It's not where I belong.
Windows and rooms that I'm passin' through.
This is just a stop, on the way to where I'm going.
I'm not afraid because I know this is my
Temporary Home."

Young mom on her own.
She needs a little help, got nowhere to go.
She's lookin' for a job, lookin' for a way out,
Because a half-way house will never be a home.
At night she whispers to her baby girl,
"Someday we'll find our place here in this world."

"This is our temporary home.
It's not where we belong.
Windows and rooms that we're passin' through.
This is just a stop, on the way to where we're going.
I'm not afraid because I know this is our
Temporary Home."


Old man, hospital bed,
The room is filled with people he loves.
And he whispers don't cry for me,
I'll see you all someday.
He looks up and says, "I can see God's face."

"This is my temporary Home
It's not where I belong.
Windows and rooms that I'm passin' through.
This was just a stop,on the way to where I'm going.
I'm not afraid because I know... this was
My temporary home."

This is our temporary home. 

...Just windows and rooms, that I'm passing through.
...Just a stop, on the way to where I'm going.