Homesick

I stare at a blank computer screen. I type words that seem to fall onto the page and make a mirage of obscure angles and designs. I feel like this piece of paper--empty, incomplete, and void. My eyes hurt from too many tears. My hands shake as I try to put my emotions into words. You see, there seems to have been so much loss lately. A friend of mine just called to tell me his granddaughter was killed in a car accident. His heart is ripped and he is crying tears that won’t be wiped away.
Recently, I heard about a two-year-old killed, a lady who lost her husband and child in a car accident, and another young child who had drown in a swimming pool. Some of you may have experienced these losses. You may have been the one whose loved one has gone on to heaven. At this point, I want to say I’m sorry.
My mind explodes with questions of “why” and from those, I only get silence. I feel hollow and small. Life’s pressures suddenly become unimportant. Friends and family seem to glow like fire and I want to hang on to them, hug them, and love them like crazy. All the petty differences seem just that--petty.
Life can sometimes be so incredibly awful. The pain from devastating events, tragic losses, and outright unfairness of this world can be too much. I’ve written about change and how it is to come no matter what. Often, I don’t want change to come. I fight it, ignore it, and curse its name. I hate it. I really do.
When things like this happen, my faith is so tiny. I doubt, question, punch the wall, and fall into a heap. Some people have complimented me on the faith I seem to have. Notice the key word: ‘seem’. To be quite honest, I doubt my faith often. I question God about everything and in my fit of emotion, I don’t take time to listen to His answers.
I can’t understand why something like this happens. I look at the brevity of life, the flash of moments that accentuate time passing by. It’s in these moments that I long for God to come back and take us home.
Since I know His home is the best place to be, I don’t want God to leave anyone behind. I want Him to snatch us all up and whisk us away on a magic carpet.
As I walk through my new home that He has prepared, I’ll see my Paw Paw Evans wave as he pulls some peanuts from his incredible garden. My ears will pick up the sounds from The Kingsmen as my Paw Paw Bridges quietly nods his head my way. I find my former students Elyse, Kate, and Jennifer acting silly somewhere and I‘ll have to join in with their antics and then bear hug them all. I’ll see so many who still linger in my mind and who have shaped who I am.
Then I’ll see Him--the One who knows me like no one else. I don’t know what I’ll do when I am face to face with my Savior, but I envision myself running full force into his open arms. I imagine a lot of laughter that just makes my sides hurt. I see my kids, my family, my friends, and so many that I don’t know but somehow we all are just basking in the glow of completeness, oneness, and joyfulness. If my dogs are there, they’re licking me in the face, too.
Recently, I asked my students what they would do if they only had one year to live. The responses were fascinating. Then they turned the question toward me. I had a hard time answering it. After much thought, I decided that I just want to be the one who loves-- unconditionally and unselfishly. I want to love the One who truly loves me and takes care of me. I want this fleeting time on earth to be that glowing fire of love shown to everyone. I want what I do and say to simply radiate the love that can come only from God.
So now the mundane task to getting ready for work, waking the kids for school, and going through the day suddenly becomes an opportunity. Interacting with my students gives me the chance to let them know that Someone loves them greatly. Being with my kids allows me the opportunity to be someone who shows them unconditional love and who shares with them the real, everlasting love of Jesus. Living means looking for Jesus in everything and finding Him in the most unlikely places.
Even when my faith is so small, He is still faithful. He knows my heart and my struggles and loves me anyway. I cannot say that I can be like Abraham and lay my Isaac on the table. I want to hang on to Hunter and Parker and never let go. I want to cling to everyone special to me and not let anything happen to them. Then life happens and I realize I can’t hang on to them. I have to let go and let the One who created them take care of them. Here comes my little faith again.
I don’t understand when life, especially at such a young age, is lost. I don’t know why things like this happen. I understand it is part of life, but it is this part that makes me homesick even more. I long for the day when we are in a place with no tears, no death, no sickness. I long for evilness to disappear and reunions to occur.
If I truly believe God’s word, then I have to cling to the promise that nothing--absolutely nothing--will separate us from His love. “I’m absolutely convinced that nothing--nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable--absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master embraced us.“ (Romans 8:38, The Message) I have to keep my focus on His promise of preparing a place for us. “There’s plenty of room in my Father’s home. If that weren’t so, would I have said that I’m on my way to get a room ready for you? And if I’m on my way to get my room ready, I’ll come back and get you so you can live where I live.“ (John 14:2, The Message) I have to hold to the hope of a home for ones who suffered here on earth, ones who left too soon, and ones who were so close to my heart. I miss them. I long for the day to see them. But I rest in the fact that they are alive in Jesus and I don’t get to spend just a lifetime with them. I get to spend an eternity--forever--with them in a place with no hurts or heartaches, only laughter and sunshine.
I dedicate this article to those who have experienced loss--recently or a long time ago. May the ones who remain draw closer to the One who loves fully and carries us through everything. We’ll be home soon.