Home Is Where God’s Heart Is

I was standing over my (once again) full sink the other day. Though I had worked a full day at the office, I busied myself almost immediately after arriving home navigating homework, serving after-school snacks, and listening to highlights from the day. I eyed the laundry strewn over a chair as I headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner. The evening flew by, as they do, with conversation and cleaning, baths, tucking in little people, reading stories, and that “one more drink of water.” 

Now, with a long-gone-cold cup of coffee at my side, I stared up at the dark sky through my kitchen window. My back ached, and the mental load and overstimulation were at their peak. There was still so much to do. Summoning the energy to wash the dishes before collapsing into bed, I pondered how I’d have to do all this again tomorrow. And the next day. I will admit that I didn’t have the best attitude. 

“This is holy ground,” I heard Him echo. “Divine privilege.”

But as often happens when I’m quietly (even if a bit resentfully) employed in a task, the Holy Spirit started whispering to me. 

“This is sacred space, you know.” He said. 

“Really, Lord?” I thought, laughing and sort of not laughing at all. 

“It doesn’t feel very sacred. I’m exhausted. I feel like the very moment I catch up, actual human cyclones reverse all my efforts. It’s frustrating, endless, often thankless, and honestly, I resent this stuff sometimes. Why does it seem like I’m the only one bothered by all the things to do around this house?” 

“This is holy ground,” I heard Him echo. “Divine privilege.”

“But why?” I wasn’t feeling particularly privileged. 

“Because …I AM the one who creates order from chaos” (Genesis 1).

Wow. Gut check. “Ok, God. I’m listening.” 

“I AM the one who fills and sustains (Psalm 145:16). 
Who cleanses (Ezekiel 36:33). 
I create hospitable spaces. Safe places (Psalm 91:4). 
I gather people and I provide for them (John 6:35). 
I make homes for longing hearts (John 14:2).
And here, now, I’m entrusting this important work to you.”

“Okay, God. Keep talking,” I pray. 

“You are my follower. My image bearer. My ambassador. As with all my kids, I place you 

just where I need your skills, your temperament, your passions—and yes, your frustrations. You are the perfectly chosen helpmeet for your husband, and the ideally curated parent for your child. You are my gift to them. And what you do in this home reflects Me. My goodness. You are my perfect provision—for them.

When you endlessly pick things up and put them where they belong, you reflect that where I am, order and peace exist. Your sacrificial efforts may cause pain and depletion in your body, but you bring ease to their minds. And a spiritual truth to their hearts. You are my living parable, reminding them that there is a plan, a trustworthy order in which they can rest and grow. That I am working all things together for good to those I call my family. 

When you work to provide good food that fills hungry bellies around a gathered table, you reflect the way I want to satisfy and sustain my people. This is the way I want to be present with them, intimate, to hear about their days, to spend time together. I want to see them full and satisfied and nourished by what I have to offer in my presence and my Word. 

As you clean surfaces and clothing and messes, you reflect the purifying presence of the Holy Spirit, searching out and removing what could damage or harm. You bring the aroma of purity into the home, just as I sanctify, forgive, and cover. That’s very important to my heart. It reflects the way My Son’s blood makes all who trust Him spotless and clean.

Don’t forget—you are doing My work as you actively and sacrificially love those I love. In this place, you are an extension of Me. So, in answer to your question, my Love, it weighs on you because I have entrusted it to you. This placement you’re in—this assignment of motherhood, of homemaking, of being a wife and stewarding a home —all this has been important to Me since the very beginning of time. I created this world with hospitable nurture, order-making, and food provision. Don’t minimize this, beloved—this is holy ground. Divine work. Sacred privilege.”

At that moment, I was glad my shoes were already off. It really did feel like holy ground. Cleansing tears fell into the sink with the plates and soap—tears of recalibration, repentance, and gratitude. 

That night, and ever since, I have thanked God for the reminder that maintaining a home is not an inconvenience. It’s sacrificial, yes. But it’s so valuable. It is an opportunity to bless and nurture those in our most intimate sphere of influence on behalf of our Maker. It’s an act of worship and gratitude for the One who has, in fact, made an eternal home and provision for us through great toil and sacrifice of His own. 

Maintaining a home is… an act of worship and gratitude for the One who has, in fact, made an eternal home and provision for us through great toil and sacrifice of His own.

In the words of the Apostle Paul, “Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father” (Colossians 3:17, NASB). 

So next time you’re standing over your own laundry pile, or mess, or mountain of dishes, rather than that easily embraced, grudging, “have-to” posture, let’s embrace gratitude. Let’s worship. 

Let these words resound within: 

“I get to do His work. I get to reflect His heart. I am an extension of His hands. I am an expression of God’s love to those in my care. This is entrusted ministry. Sacred privilege. Holy ground.” 

Because home truly is where God’s heart is.