My Great Trip Home

"And the man got up and went home." -- Matthew, telling of a man who had quite a day

"Go home to your family and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you." - Jesus, giving instructions to a man who had had quite a day

 

"My Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him." - A promise of Jesus, to those who love him

I walked into my house at 10:00pm last night and my heart filled with an unspeakable warmth and confidence at what happened next.

 

No, there was no friendly greeting awaiting me at the door, nor some surprise party. As a matter of fact, even though my house had 10 people in it, I passed right by or in front of all of them without even a hint of acknowledgment from them.

 

I was coming home from quite a day. I had experienced a great staff meeting, a moving funeral, a great lunch, some powerful reading, a 2-hour-long ministry conversation about the advancement of the Kingdom of God, a fantastic dinner with my family, a trip up to the emergency room where a good friend suddenly went, and a final, incredible 'spiritual counsel' conversation with another good friend. Doggone it...I absolutely love my days.

 

But the crowning glory of the day happened as I walked in my garage door. The silence was deafening (so to speak). As I walked through our den towards the hallway, I passed by the doorway to the living room to see my wife with a group of 4 women sitting comfortably on the floor, eyes closed, heads bowed...and I heard the whisper of their voices praying. Like I said, an unspeakable warmth made itself at home in my heart as I passed by.

 

I passed my daughters closed door, avoiding the temptation to open it on my sleeping daughter, knowing that inside was her gorgeous red hair sprawled out all over her pillow, her beautiful, soft cheeks just inviting me to give them a goodnight kiss. Then I passed a son's room, picturing his Indian-dark skinned arms wrapped around his elephant, his feet sticking out the side of his crib. And finally, another son's room, who's door I rarely pass because of how deep he sleeps, my intrusion not being enough to ever wake him up. But I did this time, satisfied that my children are in their rooms safe and secure in rest.

 

I made my way down the hall and down my basement stairs. As I turned the corner into the room, I saw three of my friends sitting together hunched over on the edge of their seats, heads bowed...and one of them was praying. Part of the confidence was that I knew these guys would be here. They meet in my basement each Tuesday, and we engage in the art of living life together. And although I missed the bulk of the meeting, without any awkwardness at all, and without them skipping a beat, I walked in and leaned back with my full weight into a chair, and listened to their incredible prayers...always the climax of our meetings for me.

 

I couldn't help but remember just over a year ago, finding this house in Amarillo, TX and my wife declaring this would the one we would build our home in. And I remembered going from room to room asking God to fill it with His work and with the Spirit of Christ.

 

Thank you, Father.