Going Home

I took one last walk around the neighborhood with my granddaughters before heading to the San Diego airport. It was time to go home after a week of fun in the sun.

My arrival in San Diego was a surprise to my granddaughters on their last day of school. The joy on their faces could have been because school was out for the summer, but I’ll go on thinking it was my arrival. We had a week full of fun: games, the county fair, a softball tournament, lunch in Old Town, dinner at the beach, playground time, trampoline time, pool time, ice cream, and playing inside, outside, and bayside. But now it’s time to fly back to Philadelphia, via San Antonio and Nashville (and one more vacation treat – Nashville hot chicken for dinner).

Every day, the girls would ask, “How many more days will you be here?” We counted down to this morning, when it was time to go to the airport.

About halfway through my week, I got a text that a friend of mine will also be going home soon. Cancer has brought her on this journey. Like my trip, it was unplanned until very recently. Just a few weeks ago, she wasn’t thinking about going home, but the message I got was that she will be going within a few days.

I’ve been thinking about her since the text arrived a few days ago, wondering how close she is to her final destination. I’m writing this blog on a plane somewhere between San Antonio and Nashville. I have about an hour and a half until my big blue and red bird lands in Nashville, then an hour’s wait to board another plane, and another two hours until I reach my final destination. And, of course, there’s about an hour’s drive home. Her journey will be different—much smoother and faster with fewer lines.

I wish we could know before we make it what our final homegoing will be like. I’ve been with people as they have died. Most were no longer communicating as their breathing slowed and finally stopped. There was no struggle, no indication that anything was happening. But I have also known a few who were conscious and talked about seeing something bright and beautiful. My guess is angels were there to escort them to heaven. I wonder if they are our guardian angels who have been with us all along or if there are special-assignment escort angels. Whichever it may be, one thing I know for sure is that Jesus is waiting to greet us at our final, heavenly destination.

After I struggle to get my larger-than-needed suitcase off the baggage claim conveyer in Philly, I’ll maneuver it out the doors, across the street, and up onto the platform where my husband will meet me. I am looking forward to his embrace. That anticipation helps me push against the tide in a sea of travel issues.

And tomorrow morning, when I go upstairs, I’ll be greeted by three little voices calling, “Mom-mom!” I am confident after a week away, their greeting will be even more enthusiastic than usual, reflecting the joy they will have at my return.

Jesus will greet us that way too at our final destination. He’s been getting ready for it and anticipating it. My friend’s home going is not a surprise to him. And when she arrives, he will be there greeting her with great joy, a warm embrace, and a “welcome home.”

“for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.” 2 Corinthians 5:7-8 ESV