Heavenly Longing

There's something unique about the transition between worlds.  I find this period of time fascinating.  The old chapter has been closed, but the new chapter has yet to truly begin.  It's almost like being stranded in a foreign land, unknown to everyone.  It's slightly disconcerting, yet it carries a small comfort.  When I'm on an airplane, flying from one home, across an ocean and a massive bit of land, to another home, I feel this most acutely.  I'm stranded between worlds.  What an equally terrifying and exhilirating feeling!  Both worlds almost cease to exist beyond a dream-like state.  I don't really know what to make of it.  It's such a familiar feeling, and yet, it still continues to puzzle me.  Oh, change.
My eyes and heart are weary from goodbyes.  No matter how many times you've parted with someone you love, the ache of the distance between you does not diminish.  Sometimes, I wish there were a way to bridge the massive gap between worlds.  This summer, I got a small taste of it when some friends from my (now dream-like) Simpson world visited my (also, now dream-like) family world in England.  It was so strange to see and experience but oh so wonderful.  In times of transition, my heart aches ever more for a home where goodbyes do not exist, and every person that I love (I hope and pray) will be together with me living out eternity with our ultimate, great Love, the recipient of creation's eternal adoration. 
Yes, my heart longs for this place of permanence, a home I hope and ache for now as my heart is transformed in its expectation.  Could I ever be worthy to belong to such a home? No.
But the beauty of love shown through the work of redemption and in the the outpouring of heavenly grace gives me hope to belong to such a kingdom.  And I know that, even now, as I wander this foreign world, I belong to this kingdom and am destined to live out its reality here on earth and one day be face to face with the King of whose splendor there is no compare. 
I never truly ache for places I've never been to, but rather, I ache for the places that have been home to me, because the people in those places are people I've learned to love.  Yet, even having never been there, I ache for my heavenly home, for it is there that I will be face to face with the fullness of the presence of the Romancer of my soul, the one in whom I am complete. 
But for now, like my namesake, I wander, a stranger in foreign lands.  I carry His presence in me, a priceless treasure in this humble and broken jar of clay, finding beauty and brokenness in each place I tread and person I meet, neighbors in stark contrast but perfect complement, His strength in utter weakness.  I get to see firsthand His work of redemption in the people I encounter, all of us fallen image-bearers being restored in His glory and love.
And as we walk the path through this life, faithfully believing in that which we have yet to see, we carry in us this beautiful hope, to one day look upon His face, in all His glory as His arms open wide for an embrace, and hear Him say, "My beloved, welcome home."