HEAVEN IS GOING HOME
Eccl. 12:1-7;Rev. 21:1-4;John
14
Webster
defines the word “home” as one’s abode, man’s dwelling place, to the point
designed. Many songs, poems, and quotations have been written pertaining to
home. Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home---My old Kentucky
home---Back home in Indiana---Home sweet home, where we will never more roam. The
Christian sings that this world is not my home, I’m
just a passing through. Nothing else can cause our joy and anticipation to soar
to the pinnacle and reach the apex of eager hope like the thoughts of home.
Where
is home? Home is where we make it as such. Here in this life and also in the
next. To the prepared, the Bible declares that Heaven is going home. Abraham
looked for a city whose builder and maker was God. Paul cries that to be absent
from the body is to be present with the Lord. O’Henry,
the great short story writer, said while dying, “Put on the light. I don’t want
to go home in the dark!” When approaching death’s door, the saint of God can
safely abide in the promise of the Savior found in John 14:1-2, “Let not your
heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house
are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a
place for you.” The sweetest fellowship of the universe awaits.
Revelation
21:3-4 says, “...Behold the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell
with them and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and
be their God. And God shall wipe away
all tears from their eyes...” No darkness, no loneliness, no fear, no broken
hearts, no agonizing tears. Here is the guarantee which is found in Revelation
22: 1-2:
And he showed me a pure river of water
of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out
of the throne of God and of the
Lamb. In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life,
which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her
fruit every month: and the
leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.
No
white hair, no stooped shoulders, no dim eyes, no
faded cheeks--we have His promise. We can sing of Heaven, happy home above,
Heaven where there’s peace and love.
What
kind of life and destination have you chosen? The choice will decide your
eternal residence. Are you living for Him who died in your place? Are you
redeemed by the blood of the Lamb? There’s room at the cross for you! Christ
unlocked the gates of paradise for the redeemed thief and He will open them for
you. Christ will help you.
A
poet said, “ I cannot do it alone, the waves run fast
and high and the fog closes in around and the lights go out in the sky. But I
know we two shall win, Jesus and I. Heaven is going
home. Redemption makes it possible for me to enter on Calvary. He built a
bridge for me from this world to the next. The Shepherd is my passport. His
resurrection is my confirmation. He has
provided the way Home!
Bro.
Ed’s influence on the many people whom he met along the way will be felt years
from now as evident by the four children singing today in his honor. The
following poem surely describes someone such as Bro. Ed McGan.
THE BRIDGE BUILDER
An old man going a lone highway
Came at evening, cold and gray,
To a chasm vast and wide and steep,
With waters rolling cold and deep.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim,
But he turned when safe on the other side,
And built a bridge to span the tide.
“Old man,” said a fellow pilgrim near,
“you are wasting your
strength with building here
Your journey will end with the ending day,
You never again will pass this way.
You’ve crossed the chasm, deep and wide,
Why build you this bridge at eventide?”
The builder lifted his old gray head;
“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There followeth after me
today
A youth whose feet must pass this way.
The chasm that was a naught to me
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be;
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim--
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him!”
Will
Adden Dromgoole