My True Home

Not too long ago I was mixing up muffins in the kitchen with our small granddaughter when she asked, “Grandma, what happens when you die?” I smiled, glad to tell her about my hope of a home in heaven and the joy forever there. She thought for a moment and responded, “When I die, I think I’ll be a mermaid!” (We need to continue our conversation on this topic.)

And it set me to thinking. I tend to love making my home here in this world—our small house, meals with friends, calls from our kids, our tidy little retirement savings—trying to find security and rest in the things I gather around me.

But C.S. Lewis’ words bring me up short:
“The security we crave would teach us to rest our hearts in this world and pose an obstacle to our return to God; a few moments of happiness, of love, a landscape, a symphony, a merry meeting with our friends, a bath, or a football match, have no such tendency. Our Father refreshes us on the journey with some pleasant inns, but will not encourage us to mistake them for home.”

Home. I love the idea of heaven as my true home, a place where tears are no more and God’s glorious presence is our light.

After a long battle with cancer, my father was in his last days at the hospital. The family would circle around him and talk and sing to him. One of his old favorites was:

“This world is not my home. I’m just a passin’ through.
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.
The angels beckon me from Heaven’s open door.
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.”

“Set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your mind on things above, not on earthly things.” – Colossians 3:1-2

Heaven, my heart’s true home. Sometimes I scarcely think of it, but truly that’s where I want to set my heart and mind. It’s a comfort to know it’s ahead for us—with dear ones we love who’ve gone there before us, with people at peace from every corner of this world, with the joy of unending days before our Lord. My true and glorious home.