There seem to be so many awful things that happen in the world. What if we’re next?
That’s the trap, isn’t it? That fear hisses out from the small offenses, the minor losses, and the non-life threatening horrors we must endure. It’s also the disquieting hum vibrating out of nightmares that come true and tragedies that break hearts and lives.
It’s often unbearable.
But what if the worst is behind us?
Sometimes I look at my children and I envy the way they open their arms wide and assume that life will always be good. Childlike faith is beautiful and its light shines out, proving that perhaps I have been a fool for many years.
And of course, it’s not just my kids. Open the Bible and behold Jesus, making fear and worry seem like a complete copout. We can let it ruin the awesomeness of God’s love if we want, but that’s our choice, not His.
I have begun to suspect that this life is more about sitting back and enjoying the ride home than anything else.
The horror is behind us- we were apart from God, lost in a wilderness of sin, broken by the weight of unrighteousness, hemorrhaging and dying right where we stood. There isn’t anything more to worry about. Sure, there are some bumps and quick-turns ahead, but it’s all going to turn out for our good.
We’re heading home now. I am leaning back against the slightly uncomfortable headrest and adjusting my legs to find a good position in this small-ish seat I have been given. My eyes are focused out the window, just over the horizon, looking with longing for the gates that will take me to my heavenly Father.
Very little worries me now. The fear is gone. The Love is thick, like a fog that has settled over our lives, and it obscures the way we are going a bit. It makes the mountains faded and hazy in the distance, so that I can’t tell just how high they are. But that’s alright. We will climb them when we get to them, and the Love will help us through it all.
I’m going home, and in the end, that’s all that truly matters.
