| When Coming Home... |
My wife and children were out this Father's Day weekend camping with her parents. (I would have been with them, but I had previously agreed to preach at a local church, and so we agreed it best for her to spend time with her Father).
As I left the office Friday evening, I realized I was in no hurry to get home whatsoever, in fact, I was sort of not looking forward to coming home to an empty house. Frankly, I hadn't really given it much thought before, but I suddenly understood that the key joy in my bike ride home was knowing that my family was there and being eager to see them.
I was thinking today that as sojourners here, we are on our way home even now, to our heavenly home, and should we allow that truth to occupy us, it can make the ride quite sweet.
We serve a good God, who is rich towards us every day. How much shall I enjoy that wedding feast, when I am finally come home!Labels: eschatology |
posted by Daniel @
1:17 PM
 
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| 4 Comments: |
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It's gonna be good. As I was handed my passport back in the US after returning from Mexico I parted from the immigration officer with the words "Miss Perez, welcome home". I really didn't realize I'd left until just then. The place I'd visited was pretty Americanized (with the exception of having to think in pesos and stumble through my Spanish).
When he said that to me, it made me realize that I HAD been gone. It incurred such a sweet feeling of returning to someplace important, where I belonged and was protected. And I'm sure that feeling is but a slight shadow of what it will feel like to be greeted upon our entry into our REAL home.
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Yep, it's gonna be real good.
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Wedding feast? I'm gonna be passed out at the gate, from sheer joy and relief if not exhaustion.
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It's gonna be good. As I was handed my passport back in the US after returning from Mexico I parted from the immigration officer with the words "Miss Perez, welcome home". I really didn't realize I'd left until just then. The place I'd visited was pretty Americanized (with the exception of having to think in pesos and stumble through my Spanish).
When he said that to me, it made me realize that I HAD been gone. It incurred such a sweet feeling of returning to someplace important, where I belonged and was protected. And I'm sure that feeling is but a slight shadow of what it will feel like to be greeted upon our entry into our REAL home.