Longing for a better country. . .

I've been thinking about heaven lately. 

My grandparents are headed there before me.  It might be months from now or only weeks from now, but they've reached that point where mortality can't be argued anymore.

Mostly, I want to stop the clock and hold on to them forever.  But inside me, there's a building "longing for a better country" that trusts that I'll see them again on the other side of death, and it will be better.

"If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.” Hebrews 11:15-16

Somewhere along the way nowhere begins to feel exactly like home. 

To be with loved ones here means leaving loved ones there.    There's always part of me that's missing.  

At my church in Colombia, I close my eyes and sing all the songs, I don't need to look at the words.  But then, the pastor starts to preach and I miss the focused sermon of pastors back "home".  "Home" again, I find that all the songs the church sings seem to have changed in the past 3 years.  I stare at the overhead, missing the familiar words of the songs back "home" in Colombia.  It's a scene that's mirrored in a thousand little ways, the way my two homes intersect, each with their mutually exclusive joys and challenges.  

And I find myself at moments, longing for heaven.  Everyone I love, everything that matters, all in one place.  No more confusion.  No more striving.  No more difficult, painful, unanswered questions.  No more goodbyes.

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:4