At 9 P.M. tonight in Nepal, I’ll be leaving my last country on the World Race. The flight back home is going to be a long one. This past year has been a long one. But as long as they seem, all journeys on earth come to an end; whether it’s the short ones we take to the places we’re called – grocery store, classroom, workplace, church, eleven countries in eleven months – or the long ones we take with the people we’re called to – spouses, family, friends, Church, nations. We all get to go home someday. Of course, the home that I’m returning to now is not going to be like the Home I get to go to once I breathe my last breath. No, the home that I’m returning to now is one where I’ve been. I can sit here and imagine driving to the Chipotle down my street and to the left and eating the first satisfying burrito I’ve had all year. I can picture sitting with my best friend in my room at 2 A.M., laughing and crying about life, love, and Jesus like we always do.
Yet I also know that because it’s been almost a year, home has changed. People at home have changed. I’ve changed. So even though I’ve been home, I haven’t been home. Like every country at the beginning of each month, home will also be new because of all the changes that have taken place since I’ve been gone. Apparently, another burrito placed called Freebirds has opened up down my street, and they have pretty satisfying burritos too. My best friend has also been working full time for this past year, so I don’t think 2 A.M. conversations in my room are going to fly well with her boss when she shows up at work, drained and less than chipper. The truth is that there are going to be new things that I will be unfamiliar with in the place I call home.
But this year has taught me to embrace and love the unfamiliar. How else am I going to love the new faces I’m going to meet, the foreign places I’m going to go, and the aged body and older soul I get to see in my reflection someday? How else am I going to love the place we will all call Home when our Beloved calls us back someday? It’s going to be a place I’ve never been.
Yet…I also know that because it’s only been a year, home hasn’t changed. People at home haven’t changed. I haven’t changed. So even though I haven’t been home, I’ve been home. Like every country at the end of each month, home will also be old because of all the changes that haven’t taken place since I’ve been gone. Whether I eat at Chipotle or at Freebirds, I’ll still have the feeling of eating a satisfying burrito. Regardless of the fact that my best friend now works full time, anytime we do get together, I have the utmost assurance that we will still be laughing and crying about life, love, and Jesus like we always have. The truth is that there are going to be old things that I will be familiar with in the place I call home.
But being away this year has also stirred up a yearning for the familiar, so much so that I have a new heart in place of my old one; one that is out to seek after the familiar in the unfamiliar – the known in the unknown, the native in the foreign – the old presence of God in the new place of Heaven. I can love the new faces I’m going to meet because I’m looking for the familiar smile that’s filled with love – a look I know because it reflects that of the One I was created to know. I can love the foreign places I’m going to go, because I’m seeking after the familiar sunrise that’s warm with hope – a sight I know because it speaks of the Creator whose presence is tangible – hanging in there with all of us as each day goes by full of new mercies. I can love the aged body that I will see in the mirror fifty years from now (if God wills me to see it!) with all the wrinkles and lines, and still see the fierce look of determination in my eyes. And the older soul? It will be the same one I’ve always carried, and was always meant to carry, but a purer gold refined by fire. When my Father calls me Home, I will love it because even though it may be gates of pearl, streets of gold, choirs of angels, and hosts of elders, it will be like the earth where I had once lived out my years with my Father by my side, holding me in His arms. It’s going to be a place I’ve always been.
I’m coming home. Home is where He is, and He is everywhere. These past eleven months, He’s been with me in Zambia, Malawi, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, China, Mongolia, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, and Nepal. And because He’s been there, I’ve been home this past year even though I haven’t been. Now that I’m flying back to my last country, I know He’ll be there also in the United States of America, because that’s what Immanuel means. And that’s what we’re celebrating again this upcoming Christmas season – the incarnation. God with us. Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life that makes us feel at home, because home in all its peace and joy is found in Him alone. So it seems like I’ve made it just in time. After eleven countries in eleven months, I’m in time to be home.
“Whither shall I go from thy Spirit? Or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend to heaven, thou art there! If I make my bed in Sheol, thou art there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there thy hand shall lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, “Let only darkness cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to thee, the night is bright as the day; for darkness is as light with thee. For thou didst form my inward parts, thou didst knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise thee, for thou art fearful and wonderful. Wonderful are thy works! Thou knowest me right well; my frame was not hidden from thee, when I was being made in secret, intricately wrought in the depths of the earth. Thy eyes beheld my unformed substance; in thy book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them. How precious to me are thy thoughts, O God! How vast was the sum of them! If I would count them, they are more than the sand. When I awake, I am still with thee.” Psalm 139:7-18
