Recently I named our property. Not just the house, not our land, the whole shebang. I’ve called our family the “Horner Hearth” for several years, but that refers more to who we are, not the address at which we live. I was inspired as I was watching “Gone With the Wind.” The O’Haras live at Tara. Scarlett went from having no interest in the stead to desperately clinging to Tara.
While I don’t intend to cling to earthly things with that sort of zeal, it hit me that somehow that naming our site makes it a separate entity from myself. I’ve felt that by trying to embrace our house and land as “mine,” its temporality was amplified. By giving it a name, I was letting it go to God and focusing on the fact that I’m its steward, not its owner (and we all know the banks usually own our homes anyway!)
My mother found it absurd to name one’s home, and I can understand why. She said, “home is ‘Home!’ ” For many people that may be enough. For me, with the growing uncertainty about our national economic future, I felt a growing sense of anxiety. Is this “my” home? As a Christian I know Heaven is my final home, and with maturity (i.e. “age”) I’m feeling that all the more. No amount of reminding myself or focusing on Matthew 6:34: “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own,” was taking back the tension in me.
So I did it: I named our property. It was much like naming a baby. I looked up meanings, envisioned what it would feel like to call it by certain names, and checked in with the hubby.
We are pleased to present Tremaine, meaning “house surrounded by stones.” It’s very fitting since we have a wonderful stone arch at our entryway, and xeriscape in our front yard. Plenty of stone! The name led to a bible passage as sort of an anthem.
The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.
So far, using the idea calling by a name has helped me tremendously. I feel like the steward of our home more so than the pressure to somehow assimilate the blessing as “mine”. There’s a freedom to simply enjoying the place rather than trying to cling to it I don’t know what tomorrow may bring but today, Tremaine is home.