We're home after a whirlwind trip to the big town of Columbus, Texas. Yes, we vacation in the middle of nowhere. Actually, it wasn't truly vacation. I was preaching at a conference for a ministry we, as a family, love to give back to as many times as we can - Pine Cove.
It was a great time. Ministry was sweet. Some new friends. Some good conversations. Some connections made. Some good times. All in all a great Labor Day weekend. So take all of what I'm about to say with this in mind: we'd go back tomorrow without even thinking about it.
But I'm glad to be home: Bunk bed or my bed? Tiny bathroom for the 6 of us or multiple bathrooms? Of course, I want the creature comforts of home. And if you think I'm complaining a bit about the other, I'm not. Mine are First World Problems. But my bed feels better than a camp bed.
Being gone reminds me of how much I like being home. It's true when I travel and preach. It's true when I travel for my doctoral classes. It's even true when I vacation. Being gone reminds me of how much I like being home.
And if you ever have a heartache for something that you know is not right, if you ever have had your breath taken away by the phone-call-from-hell, if you ever have run into the brick wall of relational bitterness when you're doing everything you can to make it right, you know what Home feels like.
Nothing's broken in Heaven. Nothing grows when it's not supposed to or doesn't grow when it should. No relationships are unreconciled. The only breath being taken away is by beauty.
The fact that we all know what that's like is proof in and of itself that this world is not our home. But we have a place that is, one that is open to everyone who trusts Jesus.
But that's just me thinking thoughts...