Missing Home

While talking with JG on Sunday, he asked a poignant question, "When are you coming home?"  I've not missed much of Florida -- it's been in the high 70s, low 80s this week -- except my friends.  And so much is happening in their worlds -- TJ1 is going to college this week, J&KJ's mom is needing help, the Preschool is about to open, the walls are being painted, things are happening.  All without me.  And that's sad.

But, as a follower of Jesus, I have the assurance that one day I'll really be home.  Home to walk and talk with my dad, my grandma I never knew, my great-grandma who prayed for me even before my parents were born; to have common ground with Paul and Esther; to converse with my namesake and understand what it meant to really be a woman in leadership.  And I'll get to sit with Jesus, look in his eyes and see the love that he has for me -- enough to live and die for me.  One day - I'll be there.  That knowledge gives me such hope, such anticipation, such eagerness to get this life over with -- not in a bad way.  But, often when I've heard someone has died, I do ask if they knew Jesus and then blast them for getting to see him sooner than me!  They're so lucky.

I don't know however what to do with someone who won't be with Jesus.  My uncle John is dying.  Back in May he was diagnosed with lung cancer.  I really didn't think it was that big of deal.  I didn't comprehend that he might actually die from this, at least not so soon.  This past Friday, August 8th, he was admitted to Hospice.  He's declining, he's leaving us -- he doesn't know Jesus.  

Would you please pray for John?  Pray that in these last days of his time here on earth the reality of not going home will grip him.  That the Holy Spirit will interact with his thoughts and his heart to draw him into the loving arms of our good and gracious God.  Pray also for my aunt Judy "from Long Island" - she knows Jesus, but it's hard for her to grasp that someone else is worth living living for.  Pray also for my family as we walks along side my mom's sister in the midst of the sorrow, the anticipation, and the weight of it all.

Going home is a lovely thing, except when there is no one with open arms waiting for you.  When there is no one willing to pick up their skirts, roll up their sleeves, spot you across the way, and haul ass to come and get you into their arms of love -- going home is painful.  

We're almost home and because of Jesus it will be pure joy.