This verse from yesterday's reading captivates me. You see, I have spent a large amount of time in a tent...and not one of those fancy "cottage tents". I'm talking about a pup tent. I talking about the kind that seems secure when you turn in at night and then is all saggy and moist when you wake up. I'm talking about the kind of tent with walls so thin that you can almost feel the breath of the night creatures (whatever they may be) as they scuffle and sniff around the border of your tent site.

Dwelling in a tent is an act of faith. The walls offer a degree of shelter but no certain protection from tumult. I have been in my tent during a storm, and I know in those moments that the thin veil of fabric can collapse in an instant.
Despite the minor or at times significant risk of dwelling in that tent, I keep going back several times each year, to that space, which is both fascinating and fearful. The feeling of being at "home" in the tent radiates from the condition of my mind and heart. Without the trappings of a house, including all the add-ons of furniture, appliances, plumbing, etc. the experience of sleeping through the night is reduced to simplest terms: I enter the tent, I close my eyes, I sleep, I awaken. That's it!
Paul reminds me that this body is the tent for my soul. For now it is functioning and serving as a shelter...as a vehicle of movement and expression. Still, every day the walls of flesh are dissolving...and the time will come when the walls will fade completely. But the inner space, my heart resting in the loving embrace of the Lord, will always be at "home"...a home far more secure and sound than any fortress on earth!
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