I've been reminded so often lately of my ultimate destination. Home, as in the title of this, my personal blog, is what folks know as heaven. It comes up when I look at Facebook a lot. I see my friends and how they cope with their losses, a child here, a mother or grandmother there. It never seems to go away. It's a just a breath away in my mind. Ironically, for everyone, it is just a breath or two away. There are no guarantees that your next breath won't be your last. Instead of a sense of dread or fear, I now find myself filled with a sense of hope. Isn't that a weird turn? Instead of writing about the Road, I'm writing about Home. And yet, that's the aim of my journey. It's what keeps me motivated.
I've been a subtle fan of Phil Collins since his creative cover of "Love Don't Come Easy." Yet the chorus of another song "Take Me Home" keeps knocking around in my head and heart. His video is creative and the song enjoyable.
I long to see Home. I've had experiences in my life that have fully convinced me that my spirit is real. It is something I can't measure or touch, but I can tell you that, while my body is mine, it is not all of me. It is not Steve Walden in his entirety. I know that if I died right here, right now, that it would be amazing and real in a sense that few earthly sensations are. I wouldn't be able to describe how lifting off the ground and looking around would be so exhilarating and freeing, but I would relish it.
So often, we look at life as a brief 70-90 year stint on this planet. We don't know what life is! I cannot prove to you that life is a mirror in which we only glimpse briefly for a few moments in our many years what truly life can be, but I can tell you that there is One Who can, and His Word leaves little doubt. In his writing about the rapture, Paul says "in the blink of an eye" that we who live until Jesus comes will be changed and caught up in the air with Him. It won't be a painful ordeal. If we die, we may feel pain through our bodies, but the moment it stops feeling, that's the end of the pain. We go from that instant to being with the Lord. What's to fear?
I guess living with pain for years has changed my perspective quite a bit. If I do go home without much advance notice, I want folks to know that I have total peace about it. I ache over those who are left behind, but there's one certain way to see me again. And if you take advantage of that offer, I promise I will not throw in a fish emblem for your car. I will, however, give you a big hug when I see you next time.
