One of the benefits of really living with the words and melodies of Mary Baker Eddy’s hymns my whole life has been how these healing truths often appear spontaneously in my thought, right at the needed moment—reminding me of God’s love and care. One such occasion was years ago when my family and I were living in a small rental home. I deeply wanted our family to buy a house of our own, but it looked as if my husband and I had missed the boat for getting into the real estate market while home prices were affordable. Still, I daily pored over the ads of homes for sale, hoping to find one we could afford.

Then our financial situation changed. After prayerful consideration, my husband decided he wanted to go back to school and gave notice at his work. Shortly after this, a major political division arose at my job that threatened to shut down the business. With these changes hanging over us, threatening our sources of income, it really looked as if my dream of buying a house was hopeless. 

A few weeks later, I was sitting at home, feeling quite down. My thoughts went something like this: “OK, God, if we’re not going to have a house of our own, then can this yearning be removed so I can get on with my life and have some peace of mind?” Then suddenly, a line from Mrs. Eddy’s hymn, “Mother’s Evening Prayer,” came to my thinking. The line was, “His habitation high is here, and nigh” (Christian Science Hymnal, No. 207). These unexpected words really got my attention. As I contemplated them, a sense of peace came over me. I found the hymn was revealing to me ideas about home I had not been willing to consider before. I was beginning to realize that the home I was really looking for was not made of concrete, wood, and shingles—it was spiritual. I didn’t have to buy a house or move somewhere else to find it. I saw that my true sense of home had always been provided by God and this “habitation high” comes with endless expressions of beauty, warmth, and safety.

My true sense of home had always been provided by God.

Right at that moment, I decided to look for evidence of that “habitation high” around me in our little rental home. I started by looking out the window and appreciating the beautiful fruit trees and tall birch trees in our backyard. Then I thought about how grateful I was that my young children could play freely and safely out front in the cul-de-sac. And I remembered the park and playground and how conveniently located they were—just minutes from our door. I also realized I could make a greater effort to love my home by keeping it tidier and inviting friends and relatives in more often. Soon the nagging disappointment over not owning a home left me. My husband and I still looked at homes for sale, but I was mentally able to leave the entire outcome to God’s directing. That’s when I got busy planning more dinners with friends and family, planting flowers in the garden, and really freshening things up around the house. This all led to many happy times in that home.

Several months later, I was looking out the window at my two children playing in a fresh blanket of snow, with tears of gratitude rolling down my cheeks. It was our first morning in our newly purchased house—a home that far exceeded my earlier held expectations. It had actually been a home I’d often admired while on my way to a friend’s place. It had a lovely yard, a cul-de-sac, where our boys could play safely, and, best of all, a greenbelt directly behind us with our own little hill for tobogganing, an open field for playing baseball, and a little forest for exploring.

All the roadblocks to buying a house had been completely removed. We were able to save enough for a down payment, interest rates for mortgages fell, my company made it through the tough patch, and my husband secured two part-time jobs.

Now, all these years later our sons are grown and we are preparing to sell this precious home. As we look forward to our new expression of “His habitation high,” I am reminded of what the Bible tells us in Psalms 23:6: “I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” Right here and right now, we’re at home with God.