As newlyweds, my husband and I looked forward to camping expeditions. We jumped at the chance to leave our stable, sturdy home to sleep for a week in a bright-orange, rickety, two-person dome tent. One crisp October, we packed bags and loaded them into our white Monte Carlo. Then we left flatland Florida and headed for the stately mountains and rippling creeks of North Carolina.
These days, my tent is slightly frayed around the edges. God made our flesh and bones disposable to trigger an ache for heaven, our eternal home. Sarah Young wrote, “Yearning for Christ is a form of homesickness: longing for your true home in heaven.” I yearn for Christ.
I don’t belong on this spinning sphere, but I’m not ready to leave. I hesitated to secure a seat on a Delta jet to California to visit my sister. Questions and concerns jumbled my thoughts: Which flight should I book? What should I pack?
Every day, I grow more cautious and slower to try new things, go to new places, and meet new people. Yet I remind myself—after this, after life on earth, I go to heaven. The truth is we have packed bags. Jesus has prepared a place for us to live with Him.
I thank my heavenly Father for this journey of life into eternity with Him. Take a moment to do the same daily.
(Photo courtesy of pixabay and StockSnap.)
Macy Johnson is a native Floridian living the lake-life in Georgia. She is an instrument of God’s blessings as a writer, church pianist, community accompanist, wife, mother, nana, Bridge player, adoptee, retired auditor, and member of Word Weavers International. Her “God Sightings” are published weekly in the Greensboro Herald-Journal. Find her at www.macymjohnson.com, macymjohnson@gmail.com, and on Facebook as Macy Martin Johnson.