Think of the longest time you’ve ever been away from home (with no visits). How did you feel? We are going on 8 months, and although we love it here, there have definitely been challenges. I know some people thrive on change and new environments; I’m just not one of them.
God has been merciful and protected us from major attacks, but there have definitely been bouts of homesickness. I want to stay up late talking with my mom, to hug my dad, to hang out with our siblings and friends. I want to sit on the corn burner and talk wrestling with Josh’s dad, and sewing with his mom. I miss hugs and blown kisses from “our” kids. I miss having a car, and having our friends over, speaking the local language, and being able to understand everything that’s said around me. I miss the familiar, the comfortable- people, church, food, environment, culture, weather, money, communication. I miss the security of “home.” No matter how much I grow to love Rehoboth and its people (which is already a lot), there will always be something missing.
One day I was talking with God about homesickness, and asking Him to keep it from interfering with our ministry, when it hit me: this feeling was not new, just intensified. A part of me has felt it my whole life.
I am homesick for heaven.
I don’t claim to know that much about heaven- the Bible leaves a lot of room for interpretation and discussion- but I do know this: it is our true home, one of complete fellowship, communion, and companionship with God. Yes, we can have this to an extent while on this earth, but this will be so much more, and for all eternity. No matter how much I love people around me and life on earth, there will always be something missing.
With this in mind, I’d like to take the next few days to share what I have been learning about eternity, heaven, and our place on earth.
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1 comments:
This is so true. It's something a few friends and I have pondered for many years as we discuss the concept of "home." Most of us are wanderers and we come from families of wanderers and we wonder, how does one put down roots? Are roots necessary? Or is it better to be unfettered, especially when it comes to being used by God?
But ultimately, we all agreed that we have a yearning inside of us for "home," even if we've never experienced that on earth. It can only be the longing for heaven.
And now that this is already a HUGELY long comment, I'll also add that Steven Curtis Chapman's new album came out today, and it is his personal Psalms of lament and hope and trust and sorrow after the loss of his sweet daughter last year. It's all about heaven and the way it beckons. You can listen (if you have speed that allows it) for free on Rhapsody. (Or buy it on iTunes. It's not a feel-good album. Too much raw emotion. But it's wise and mature and true.)
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