There is something wonderful about the thought of going home. Whether it is your own home that you love and cherish or a childhood home that takes you a step back in time, home is always the place we want to go.
My parents recently sold the home my brothers and I grew up in. With all of us gone, it seemed rather empty and quiet to them. Mother was weary of taking care of a two story home and Daddy was ready to relocate as well. They moved into a lovely ranch home and have made it their new haven of rest. Mother has added some of the familiar and sentimental treasures she loves while Daddy is happy with an office and a place to study.
I know it must sound strange but when I travel home to visit them in their new house, I feel that same warmth of home that I have always felt. I realize now that it wasn't all the familiar belongings Mother and Daddy possessed that drew us home. It wasn't the comfortable couch or Daddy's favorite recliner---it wasn't my favorite bed or the soft down comforters Mother wrapped me in. It was Mother and Daddy themselves that drew us home. It was, and still is, their love and support that created a place where we, their children, felt the safest and most protected. Their love was the blanket that covered us, the warmth that cradled us, and the shelter we needed when life became too much to handle. Never were they disappointed when they saw us coming but, rather, they greeted us with joy and a warm embrace. Even now, when I travel home, I do so with the anticipation of the greeting I will receive. Daddy and I have a ritual that never changes: I pull in the driveway beeping my horn several times while Daddy opens the door and runs to me. I mean, he really RUNS to me and those strong arms wrap around me as he smothers me with such hugs and kisses that I laugh with the joy of seeing him again. Mother waits at the door and kisses me on both cheeks, then holds me so tight I can hardly breathe. No wonder I yearn for home! No wonder I travel so far just for Daddy's hugs and Mother's kiss. What joy to be home again.
I think that will be the best part of being at home with the Lord. The scriptures teach us that man cannot imagine what God is preparing for us. Mortal eyes have seen nothing that even begins to compare to the glorious beauty of that place called Heaven. Even though I have read the description of it many times, my mind still cannot wrap itself around the glory I will see.
As beautiful as Heaven will be, it will be the presence of Jesus, my risen Lord, that will make it truly Heaven for me. I cannot imagine Heaven without my precious Lord any more than I can imagine home without Mother and Daddy. To be at home with Christ, the one who has loved me most of all. To be in the presnce of the one who died for me--oh, this will be what makes it Heaven for me. To look into His eyes of grace and mercy, to sit at His feet and listen to the voice I have yearned to hear--oh what a day that will be.
There is never any place we can go on the face of the earth that can take the place of home. No fancy hotel or famous retreat can provide the true comforts of home. No view from afar can replace seeing home when it first comes into view. No maid or butler can take the place of the inhabitants of home. How I love to be there! How I look forward to being at home with Jesus in the distant day when I lay down the robe of faulty flesh and put on the robe and crown He has waiting for me.
Many years ago, Lanny Wolfe wrote a beautiful song that sums up all I have been saying. May its words bless you and make you yearn for Heaven. After all, there really is no place like home.
"Heaven for me; Heaven for me.
Jesus will be what makes it Heaven for me.
Its beauty and splendor I'm longing to see,
But Jesus will be what makes it Heaven for me."