I’ve just returned from a ten-day vacation out west. Tony and I connected briefly with family members in Kansas City and Colorado, and then the rest of the time was spent sightseeing. We saw mountains, desert, and the Great Plains via our rented car. The diversity was truly incredible! We drove as far west as the Grand Canyon in Arizona, something that is obviously high on many bucket lists because we met people from all over the world viewing it with us. It took an entire day just to cover the South Rim of the park, which gives some testimony as to the immensity of this unusual hole in the ground.

On the way back to Kansas City we drove through several Indian reservations in Arizona and New Mexico. It’s hard to believe that anyone could survive in such arid, desolate conditions. Colorful bluffs occasionally break up the monotony of the landscape, but with only sand, rock and sagebrush for miles and miles, the terrain seems unfriendly to wildlife and humans alike.

The few settlements that we encountered (you couldn’t call them towns, since they consist of one gas station/gift shop and a few trailers) were welcome sights, especially when they offered “fry bread,” a special treat that Tony remembered having when he was growing up in Oklahoma. Similar to crepes or tortillas, they are made in the open air, in sweltering conditions, by brave Native women who cover the hot bread with butter and sugar. While Tony feasted on that, I looked at the beautiful jewelry made by Navajo and Hopi craftsmen.

The trip was a great experience, and I’m really glad we got to see everything and everyone who made it special. But do you know what my favorite part of the trip was? Getting on the plane to return home! I know that sounds strange, even to me. In response someone might say (with exasperation), “Then why bother going anywhere? It’s a lot easier and cheaper to just stay home in the first place!”

The last day of our trip, when we passed through security at the airport and boarded the plane heading to Charlotte, I was surprised by the rush of hope, excitement, and joyful anticipation I felt. I assure you, I don’t feel that way when I just stay home for long periods of time. Home seems ho-hum and monotonous, in fact … until I go somewhere else. Then I see it with fresh eyes and appreciate it all over again.

What is it about “home” that can pull the strings of our hearts so poignantly? Why do we long for home, even when it may be far less exciting and thrilling than other places we visit? What makes the victims of hurricanes and tornadoes vow to rebuild and stay right there, even after such traumatic experiences? Why is the place we consider “home” so precious?

Home may not be especially gorgeous, by the world’s standards. It may be the last place someone else would want to settle. But to those who live there, it’s special. Home is where things work as they should, where we can do things easily without a lot of effort. We know where things are and how they work. Things are arranged to our liking at home; we don’t have to work around the tastes and preferences of others. Like a well-worn shoe that fits us perfectly, where we call home is more comfortable than anywhere else.

Home is also part of our identity. We know who we are by where we’re from. There’s a draw to return home for most people, especially as they get older. I remember the movie entitled Trip to Bountiful, starring Geraldine Page, which portrayed so beautifully the longing to re-experience “home” after being away for some time. Home doesn’t have to be ideal to draw us. Sometimes our memories of home include hardship, difficult people, even pain. Yet, like the cat who’s moved hundreds of miles away to a better situation, we find ourselves retracing our steps back to what we consider “home.” It may not make sense, even to us, but we feel a deep need to be where we feel most ourselves.

Things change dramatically when we become Christians. Once our hearts are captured by God, we can no longer feel completely “at home” anywhere on earth. Suddenly our citizenship is in heaven, and we feel like we no longer fit in the culture we once called home. Like Abraham, we obey God’s call to “go to a place [we] would later receive as [our] inheritance.” By faith, he “made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country” (Hebrews 11:8-9). By putting our faith in Christ, we soon recognize, as one gospel song said, that we also are “just a passin’ through. Our treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.”

I find it interesting that Jesus, just before He left earth to return home, told His disciples that He was going back to prepare a place for them.  Jesus knew that once He was gone and the disciples were left to cope with a very unfriendly culture, they would feel abandoned, misunderstood, and hated. Earth would no longer feel like a comfortable and welcoming place, so they would need the promise of a new “home” to replace the one they had lost.

Jesus spelled it out plainly for them, but of course at that time they didn’t really understand the significance of what He was saying. Too much was happening for them to take it all in! But 2,000 years later, we should be able to grasp the importance of His comforting promise: “If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you may be where I am” (John 14:3).

One day you’ll be truly “home,” Jesus told them. Don’t think it strange that you can’t find lasting peace, contentment, or a sense of identity anywhere here on earth. That’s part of the consequences of being one who is “rejected by men but chosen by God and precious to him” (1 Peter 2:4). One day, He will take us home to be with Him and then we can enjoy the peace and joy we’ve always hungered for. “Therefore encourage each other with these words,” the apostle Paul wrote (1 Thessalonians 4:18).

The closer we get to the Lord, the more we grow in our relationship with Him, the more we long to be where He is. Yes, He lives in us by His Spirit right now, but that’s only a foretaste of what it will be like to be in His presence for eternity. There, we will have no spiritual enemies to battle; we will be at rest. There we will never fret again about the sin we see both outside and inside of us; we will enter into our true identity as redeemed and holy children of God clothed with His righteousness.

While I feel more comfortable in the Carolinas than in some other part of the world, I’m still not home when I step off the plane at the Charlotte Douglas Airport. I’m still “longing to be clothed with [my] heavenly dwelling … so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. Now it is God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come” (2 Corinthians 5:2, 4-5).

When that restless longing comes, the feeling that we want to return “home,” embrace it for what it is: a God-given desire to wean us away from the present world and create in us anticipation for the better world to come. He has promised – He will return for us and take us to be with Him. Revelation 21 describes in great detail how wonderful our new home will be. Best of all, He will be there and that will be heaven for everyone who has been redeemed by His precious blood.

All the things that make home special will be fulfilled in that day. Our wait will be over and our hearts will finally be at rest. I hope that fact encourages your heart today. If you are walking through a difficult time and are feeling overwhelmed and alone, let Jesus’ promise bring renewed hope. The best is yet to come! If you feel like your life is too boring and monotonous, maybe you need to shake up your circumstances and go somewhere that’s difficult and challenging for awhile. Only then will you be able to gain a new appreciation for the relationship you have in Christ.

As a follower of Jesus, life isn’t easy or comfortable most of the time. But that’s okay; we aren’t home yet! As the old hymn reminds us, “While we walk the pilgrim pathway, clouds will overspread the sky; but when traveling days are over, not a shadow, not a sigh. When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be! When we all see Jesus we’ll sing and shout the victory.”