We are covered by the protection of the pavilion above our heads and the small amount of warmth that our sweaters and jackets are able to provide, yet the wet wind still manages to blow across our faces and threaten to freeze us to our bones. Some sit with heads bowed, others stand, and some even dance in the back. We are at a campground belonging to a church in Nelspruit, South Africa—the said church has graciously allowed us to stay here for free while we wait for our passports to return from the Indian Embassy. It has been storming, cold, and we have been living in our tents. Although it seems like a dreary situation for the 45 of us to be in, the atmosphere amongst us and within our hearts is on fire as we worship. We begin to sing another song… perhaps it’s the eighth one we’ve sung so far since offering our praise this night. It’s a song I’ve never heard before, but the chorus catches my attention: “coming home, coming home.”
And when I hear those words, I am taken 6 months back, to a moment where “coming home” felt so good.
I had been travelling for work that week, somewhere in the US that I can’t quite remember at this point—but that detail isn’t important, anyways. What matters is that after 3 or 4 days of being on the road by myself for work, I finally touched down at the Pittsburgh airport. I anxiously waited on the plane as the passengers ahead of me unloaded their luggage from the overhead compartment and filed out of their aisle, one by one. My heart skipped a beat when I thought about where I’d be in 20 minutes, and I couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face. When I was finally able to get off the plane after what felt like hours, I half ran, half power-walked through the terminal to the underground train that would take me to the arrival pick-up area. I boarded the train and could barely contain my excitement; it was getting closer and closer to that moment I had daydreamed about with every ticking second of the clock.
Thirty seconds later, I stepped off of the train and into the baggage claim area. At this point, I full-speed ran ahead through the doors to the road outside. And just in time, as if it were a scene from a movie, the car pulled up to the curb and was thrown into park. The driver’s side door swung open, and he climbed out. With one glance, we ran into each other’s arms. I let my luggage fall to the ground as he picked me up in a warm embrace; my feet dangling off of the ground due to our 12 inch height difference. Finally, I’m home, I thought to myself as a single tear of joy crawled slowly down my cheek. When we finally let go of one another, put my luggage in the trunk, and climbed into the car, I noticed that there was a box on the passenger’s seat. It’s a surprise for you, he said to me. I felt like I was the most special girl in the world. I opened the box to find a letter explaining every item in the box… an overall simple gift that actually meant so, so much.
A little while later, we pulled up to his family’s house. As we were walking hand in hand to the front door, he said those words to me for the first time: I love you. I thought I could die at that moment and go to heaven with a completely full heart, a life lived to the fullest with the culmination of the night.
And 6 months later, as I sit on the other side of the world from that wonderful man who captured my heart and recollect that night where coming home had never felt so good, I wonder: why this memory? Why now? It aches my heart to think about being so far apart from him.
And the Lord answered, because I want you to remember this as a picture of what coming home to me is like. With excitement, I’ll run back into Jesus’ embrace once again after wandering off on my own. I’ll drop my things that don’t really matter at all and we’ll twirl in each other’s arms as we laugh and cry at the joy and freedom of being together; and when I settle in he’ll hand me a love letter for me to keep forever, and as we walk hand-in-hand, he will whisper those same 3 words and implant them into my heart for all of eternity. Because no matter where I am in the world, or how far away I am from my family, best friend/boyfriend, and community, I am most at home when I am in Jesus’ heart.
