Saturday, October 18, 2008

Longing for Home

The fall of the year is my favorite season. Glorious leaves of scarlet and gold, the smell of neighboring fireplaces, the clean crispness in the air--it's all so wonderful. I can't get enough of it.

Ironically, those very feelings fill me with longing for heaven. To see God whose glory can't be compared to the most jaw-dropping beauty of a New England landscape. To come face-t0-face with the Fire and the Cloud who led my ancestors into the Promised Land. To know the clean crispness of a life without sin or pending death. What more could I long for?

If I could pick a season in which to die, it would be the fall. Not that I'm feeling morbid or entertaining any depressing thoughts. I'm not. I would just like to be buried under a maple tree with one cloud in the sky to remind everyone of my Cloud. And if my death were to cause anyone much sorrow (hard to believe) and feel like a cloud is hanging over them, I would call from the grave, "A Cloud does hang over you. But He is not a dark cloud. He is your Comforter. Rejoice in Him. He led His people through the wilderness for 40 years. He'll lead you through this. Walk on."

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