"It's a long and rugged road
and we don't now where it's headed
But we know it's going to get us where we're going
And when we find what we're looking for
we'll drop these bags and search no more
'Cuz it's going to feel like heaven when we're home
It's going to feel like heaven when we're home…"
-The Wailin' Jenny's
“You are not a body. You are a soul. You have a body.” -CS Lewis
Glimpse of Heaven? ~Pinterest~
I wasn't created for this world. None of us were.
Realizing this has been essential for me to understand the purpose of life, of love, of the Race, of missions. Life on earth is imperfect, temporary, uncertain, and often painful.
It explains that little itch in your spirit that is always wanting a little something more in life. In school, we tend to be under the impression that we will be most content when we graduate and have an income, no longer having to worry about grades and studies. And for a small time, we are. But then people often enter into a cycle of being incapable of NOT thinking about what else there is in life.
Before long, many feel this nagging inside of us to find a spouse…and once we marry, we need a newlywed starter home…and then the desire to have a baby sets in…and then we want to see that baby succeed in everything from 4 year-old tee-ball to college academics…and then it’s time to retire, at which point we want a cushy retirement account and grandchildren.
Even in daily life, we often hear and feel that little whisper looking forward to the next thing…the next homemade meal, the next vacation, the next weekend. Even when we are grateful for the blessings around us and enjoying ourselves, we so often have this little piece of us that is still anticipating something more.
Sometime towards the end of January at the start of my Race, I found myself standing in the Pacific ocean off the coast of La Libertad, El Salvador, staring at the horizon.
On the beach in El Salvador.
My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts that confused me, leaving me feeling antsy and annoyed with myself.
If I focused hard enough, I could stare at the horizon and imagine that I was floating in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Ocean Isle Beach, North Carolina.
I could imagine that my brother and sister were sitting in the sand on the shore behind me, beneath a beach umbrella. Emily would be holding a book and her iPod, and Matt would be tossing a football in his hand and waiting for me to come back to the shore to throw it with him. My mom would be just walking across the wooden walkway over the dunes, with three wild-eyed boston terriers on leashes dragging her along with excitement.
I imagined how my day would unfold on this comfortable, predictable beach afternoon with some of the people I love most.
I imagined myself turning around and swimming back to the shore with American children splashing around me. My brother and I would play on the beach for a while, throwing the football and taking the dogs swimming, before we everyone heading inside for a delicious lunch thrown together with tons of fresh fruits and veggies from the dozens of produce stands we pass driving to the beach. Finishing off lunch with a juicy peach, I would drape myself across one of the many pieces of beach furniture and doze off while reading a mindless novel.
Last summer, taking Sadie out for a walk on OIB, NC. Carolina beach lunch.~Pinterest~
In reality, I knew I would turn around to a different, albeit incredible, scene. The ocean in El Salvador was much more clear, and the sand much more black from volcanic soil. Most of the people were Salvadorian, beautifully brown and fit from years of surfing and managing the multi-colored hostels that dotted the coastline. Instead of my family, I would see the 6 members of my first World Race team, and rather than a North Carolina home-grown lunch, I would have a chicken burrito with rice and beans.
The beach in La Libertad, El Salvador…month 1. The beach in Leon, Nicaragua…month 3.
The irony in this moment that bothered me so was that I had craved this World Race adventure of new places, people, flavors, and lifestyles for years. And here I was, actually living it, saturated in a crazy new land and excitement, and yet my default “happy place” was the beaches of home. What was the matter with me? Isn’t this what I wanted?
I truly was able to recognize the blessing of my present, and to enjoy it for what it was. But to be honest, the reality of life had followed me on this exciting worldly adventure, and had brought with it the frustrations, hurt feelings, and homesickness that I should have seen coming.
Staring up at the clouds, torn between self-annoyance and self-pity that life’s imperfections were getting me down, I felt God tell me that the truth of the matter was that my heart would never be completely content in this life. That while He had blessed me with the ability to be joyful and excited for daily things, He had created me to finally find my truest niche somewhere other than a fallen, sinful world.
Because Heaven is my home.
Beach dance. ~Pinterest~
That whisper of the soul that makes us wonder if there is just a touch more of something over the horizon waiting for us is our Father telling us that there is. When we receive salvation through Jesus Christ, we become heirs to the Kingdom of God with Him, and our heart and soul immediately begin to long for this unity and perfection.
This isn’t to say that life on earth should not be enjoyed and embraced; quite the opposite, actually. Knowing that the little bit of discontent that we feel will be completely conquered one day allows us to put aside fears of depression or hopelessness. With heaven at the end of the pain and difficulty of this life, why let the happenings of this world govern your every thought, mood, and goal? As our squad leader Leah recently pointed out, home on earth is wherever God has commissioned you to be at that moment, and to dive into it with complete commitment, trust, and joy.
Of course I miss my childhood home, family, and comforts, which is a testament to the blessings I know I have received and can give God the glory for. But now, with the knowledge of where I truly belong made obvious to me, it is much easier to combat that conditioned mindset that the next season or opportunity will bring just a touch more contentment than the current one.
Allow a moment of brutal honesty: sometimes America sounds nearly like heaven on earth right now. We have to stop ourselves from staring dreamily into space and thinking of the hugs, meals, coziness, and comfort we will come home to, just in time for Christmas. But by the grace of God alone, I realize now that even then I will eventually wake up one morning itching for another taste of God's Kingdom in the missions field. Because Father God may have somewhere else He wants me to call my earthly "home" for a while.
But the truth is….
It’s gonna feel like Heaven when we’re home.
