I’ve gone camping a few times, and what I know of a good camp is only hearsay. I’ve heard a good camp is when the food you brought tastes like something other than the soot; it’s when tree roots don’t attack your back at night; it’s when the sky has mercy and doesn’t pour out heavy rain that is specially reserved for campers. As for my camping experience, I often leave a campsite with little to eat, hobbling from a sore back, and wet with heavy “dew.” I guess the real joy in camping is always when you arrive home.
It’s amazing to me the amount of effort I take to basically set up camp – to live here where we as believers are only sojourners. Our culture tells us our temporary, makeshift tents are home, enticing us to build and conquer and make. But reality is found in the broken and impoverished Jesus who sat amongst the 12 and offered hope: “I am going to prepare a place for you; I will come back and take you to be with me; you know the way to the place where I am.”
A good friend of mine passed on from this life last month. His funeral was properly titled “A Homegoing Celebration.” He lived in an impassioned way and little strength was reserved for his journey to heaven. He knew Jesus would carry him home. He knew that no matter the trials of this life, abundant life awaited him. Let us embrace the rushing wind of Christ’s spirit and run headlong into His grace; for one day we will truly rest in that place He has prepared for us, home.
Dig Deeper: John 14
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