Just passing through

This is my temporary home it’s not where I belong,
Windows and rooms that I’m passing through.
This is just a stop on the way to where I’m going
I’m not afraid because I know
This is my temporary home.

- Temporary Home, Carrie Underwood

…but our citizenship is in heaven…
Philippians 3:20a

My dear friend Melissa arranged a “book pilgrimage” for Elizabeth Sherrill’s All the Way to Heaven. Imagine a book club purchasing one copy of the selected text, then passing it from member to member for perusal. We highlight, underline, mark up the pages, then send it off to the next way station, with the single requirement that we then post a few of our thoughts on the reading.

The point that kept coming back to me throughout my reading is that this earth, this life is not all there is – it is just a temporary dwelling place. We saw glimpses of heaven in the way God orchestrated events in our lives to draw us to Him. We experience a little bit of heaven as He leads and guides, comforts and rejoices in our day to day experiences. And we have the hope – the elpis, or joyful and confident expectation – of an eternity spent in heaven.

Mrs. Sherrill’s quotes her father-in-law as saying that we view life as a treadmill, a saga or a pilgrimage. Those who see it as a treadmill believe existence is essentially meaningless, an endless repetition of activities. Those who see it as a saga believe much the same, but that nobility can be found in how people cope with that life. The people on the pilgrimage, however, see all of life, past, present, good, bad or indifferent as going somewhere, as a journey to a better place.

Whether my life is a treadmill, saga or pilgrimage depends not on where my feet are, but where my heart is.

The older I get, the deeper my faith, the more often I find my thoughts turning to heaven. It’s not a yearning for death – I’ve quite a bit of living to do yet, thank you – but a growing discontent with this temporary abode, an awareness of eternity just outside my senses’ ability to apprehend. My heart isn’t really here anymore.

"Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

Luke 12:32 - 34