Home Sick

We haven’t talked much about Peru, but I will say that on every level possible, it was challenging.  God stretched me so much on that trip that my spiritual muscles ached.

Of course, when we arrived in Arequipa, everything there was exciting and new.  It was different, and for those of us who had never been there before, we practically inhaled all the sites and sounds.

But after a few days, I started to miss home.  I missed things that I take for granted every single day like water pressure and flushing toilet paper and brushing my teeth with tap water.  I longed to be able to participate in a conversation where an interpreter wasn’t necessary.  I looked forward to the comforts of home – where I could relax and rest and simply “be”.  My heart literally ached to be home.

If we are “foreigners” and “strangers” in this world, shouldn’t our hearts ache for our heavenly home the way it aches for our earthly one?

Shouldn’t we long to see the place Jesus has prepared for us like we long to walk through the door of our houses?

Shouldn’t we be excited to go where we are loved and surrounded by His beauty the way we get excited to see the beauty our homeland and the faces of our loved ones?

Shouldn’t we be eager for the day when we can have a conversation with The Almighty without an interpreter?

Shouldn’t we yearn for the place where our souls will be able to rest…to relax…and to simply “be” all that God created us to be?

These questions both comfort and sadden me.  They comfort me because our heavenly home will feel 900 million times more awesome than these shoddy, earthly ones…But they sadden me because I realized that I am too comfortable here.  I don’t feel like a stranger and a foreigner in this land nearly as much as I should.  I’m not home sick…and I should be.