We've spent the last few days here, at my sister's house.
This lazy little river runs through her back yard.
We've done nothing but relax.
I've read and rested and taken photos.
The Hubs has entertained himself fishing off the dock.
We've eaten my sister's good cooking, and talked and laughed together.
There's nothing like being with family,
with those who know all of your faults and foibles but love and accept you anyway.
When I was a kiddo, the return of Jesus seemed like a scary event.
The songs about heaven seemed nice enough,
but I liked life on this earth well enough that I wasn't looking forward to any sudden changes
like Jesus coming.
Long ago, tucking my own little girl into bed one night she said the same thing I had felt as a little one,
"I don't want to go to heaven, I like it here!"
She happened to be the one daughter who was quite a homebody, like her Mama,
so the Holy Spirit helped me explain things in a way she could understand.
"You know how good it feels to come home after we've been gone somewhere for a few days,
how nice it is to be in your own room, in your own bed? Well, that's what it will feel like when we're with Jesus. It will feel like we're finally home. I bet you we'll say, "Jesus, I thought that was my home, but now I know that this is where I've belonged all along!"
Somehow, in telling her this, the truth of it sunk deep down into my heart.
And now, now there's nothing I'd like more than to see Him,
the One Who knows all my faults and foibles and loves and accepts me anyway.