These all died in faith, not having received what was promised, but having seen it and greeted it from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland.”

                                                                            Hebrews 11:13-14

Memories of my childhood recall so many details about the small church in which I grew up. The cold tile floor, and the bright red carpeted aisle; the sun shining through the stain glassed windows, bathing the wooden pews in warm light - welcomed in the winter, never in the summer. I remember shifting restlessly in my seat, full of youthful energy, until the time came to stand and sing that closing hymn. And I remember often the words of a song we used to sing: “This world is not my home I’m just a passin’ through.” Intellectually, in my head, I understood those words. But it’s only through the years of life I’ve lived since those days I’ve come to know and understand the depth of those words deep in my heart. This world is not my home. Pain, grief, struggle, sin, brokenness: I was created for none of this. I was created to be home. We were all created to be home. But where is home? In the words of Fredrik Buechner, “...the home we long for and belong to is finally where Christ is.”

One day we’ll be there. One day we’ll be home. One day we’ll be in the presence of Christ. In the meantime we push along, through the twists and turns; over the bumps and potholes, down the road of life. Along the way I offer my thoughts, and reflections, and hope you’ll offer me yours...until we’re home.