I’m homesick tonight.
I’m at home. But I’m homesick for my Home.
My Heavenly Home.
Because I’m sick of this temporary home.
I’m sick of sin and pain and suffering.
I’m sick of babies dying too soon and parents dying too soon.
I’m sick of sickness that separates so many families.
I’m sick of families torn apart.
Torn apart by addiction and sin.
Torn apart by grief.
Torn apart by thousands of miles because paperwork is messed up.
I’m sick of children being without their family.
I’m sick of myself and my affections for this world.
I’m sick of this temporary home.
I’m so homesick for Jesus. For Heaven.
For the reality of no pain or tears.
I can imagine it. The joy of it. The peace of it.
Of Jesus. His arms wrapped tightly around me. Around you.
To see His face. Hear His voice. Lay at His feet. Touch His scarred hands.
And yet I know He is here. In this temporary home.
Help us Jesus.
Help us see Your voice. Hear Your voice. Lay at Your feet. Touch Your scarred hands.
Even in this world that is not our own. Even in this world that we are sick of, and that makes us sick.
Be near to us Jesus. Be here in this home, until we are Home.