Not My Home

As my final days in Uganda are ticking away, I'm beginning to face the fact that there are going to many hard goodbyes. Some of these people I hope to see Stateside one day, but I'm very aware that there are others I won't see again this side of eternity. In order to be reunited with some really important people, I have to part ways with others. I'm struck with the reality that I cannot gain one precious thing without losing another. If I want the hellos, I must bear the weight of goodbyes.

Those the LORD has rescued will return. 

They will enter Zion with singing; 

everlasting joy will crown their heads. 

Gladness and joy will overtake them, 

and sorrow and sighing will flee away.

Isaiah 55:11

Do you long for this day as much as I do?

For that sweet moment when you'll be overtaken with gladness and joy because all your people are together in one place?

Does your heart thrill at the thought of never facing another day of sorrow and sighing?

No more goodbyes and too many places your heart calls home.

This is why groups of close friends often joke about moving in together. Buying land and living on it with our people.

"Why not? Let's do it! We have doctors, teachers, farmers, and pastors... 

It'll be great! We'll be together forever." 

At this point in my life, I've probably committed to four different communes because all over the world we're longing for uninterrupted, soul-level community. We're close, but we could still be closer. Something deep within each of us knows that we're not designed for "goodbye."
We're not built for parting ways.
We want to dwell together forever.
Eternity is in our hearts.

My soul longs for the day when the word "home" means the exact same thing for all of us.
No more goodbyes.
No more hearts dwelling in multiple places at once.
Just one Home.
Forever. And ever.

Amen.