It's my favorite stretch of the Thruway, when we crest a rise just east of Irving and I see the highway falling away for nearly a mile in front of me, taillights blinking red ahead of me, headlights in the oncoming lane. Whenever I see that stretch of road, I know I'm almost home. The next exit lies thirteen miles away, and then just a short hop from Fredonia to my driveway. Yesterday it was home from a trip to Rochester to visit my mother. On other occasions, it's been the return from a more distant Syracuse or our annual trip to Canada, or the shorter trip to Buffalo for shopping or a visit to someone in the hospital, but that particular rise in the road always warms my heart.
It's that longing for home that intrigues me. I enjoy visiting new places. For our 25th anniversary, our kids rallied the church to send us to England for ten days. Seeing ancient cathedrals, Stonehenge, quaint cottages, the original London cast of "Les Mis," including Colm Wilkinson, was an experience I'll never forget. Mission trips that have taken me to Mongolia, Nepal, Belize, and Cuba have expanded my horizons and introduced me to wonderful people all around the world. But driving up the road that leads to home brings a thrill all its own. I don't need a map; I know all the landmarks.
Our heavenly home has its own set of landmarks that let us know when we're on the right road. Unlike the Irving exit on the Thruway that tells me I'm getting close, there is no way of telling how close we are to exiting this road of life for our heavenly home. Jesus is the only one who's made that journey and come back to tell us what it's like. Some people are given the privilege of seeing that exit ahead of time, but the privilege is not always appreciated, because it is usually the result of a drawn out terminal illness or a tragic accident. We are all getting closer to that exit; the question is, are we ready for it and looking forward to it?
Throughout history, God's saints have spoken of what the letter to the Hebrews calls "a city not made with hands, whose architect and builder is God." I don't believe the reference is solely to some future place of perfection, but is that to which God is calling us to anticipate and work towards here and now. The problem with thinking of heaven solely as that which we shall attain after we die is that it becomes too easy to just sit back and wait for it instead of cooperating with God in establishing his rule and kingdom here and now. Heaven is not just a future reality; it is an alternative reality for this life, too. Every so often, I catch a glimpse of it, just like that stretch of road as I approach Irving. The trip occasionally has its moments, when the road is slippery, the visibility poor, or if I need to stop for fuel, or if I get a flat tire. Life is full of those interruptions and challenges, but I keep driving, knowing that I'm on the right road, and if I don't give up, it will surely lead me home.
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