Note from Marcia, 4/22/09

When I was a 9-year-old girl growing up in southern Indiana, I went to summer church camp for the first time. About three days into my time there I noticed a strange, hollow, kind of queasy feeling in my middle. . . accompanied by mild depression. I was homesick. This perplexed me, because I was having a good time and wouldn’t have missed camp for the world. Still, my heart yearned for the familiarity of home.

Lately I’ve had feelings that remind me of that camp experience. I love where I’m at in my cozy little home in DeLeon; I love my life on earth, my family and friends and all the exciting things God has given me to do. But I want to go home. Some primitive instinct deep within me seems to say, "You were made for more than this. You were created to talk face to face and walk arm in arm with Jesus—just like Adam and Eve did when the earth was first birthed. You were meant to live outside the constraints of time, to exist in a perfect utopia. You were made to live in total harmony with your Creator, without the constant struggle of the fallen, carnal nature. "

I’ll admit that sometimes my impatience may be due to this less-than-perfect looking, feeling, and acting body. And you have to remember that day after day we deal with Paul’s handicap, which hampers and hinders most of our activity. So maybe we’re a tad selfish about looking forward to an escape. However, beyond the freedom our heavenly bodies will afford us, what will it be like to look into the face of our Savior, and keep looking at Him forever? O to experience physically what we have known spiritually. O for that day when we will actually be lifted up in the arms of our Redeemer!

Until then, we try to center ourselves on the Lord and His concerns. We try to keep in mind that soon what is eternal will overtake what is temporal. And we find comfort and strength in the company of others who realize that they---like us---are merely pilgrims passin’ through.