Homecoming

I was on a flight less than an hour from landing in New York City when the first plane hit the twin towers on 9-11.  My 9-11 journey had changed me. I was no longer just an American—I had become a patriot with a deep understanding of how precious my freedom as an American citizen is.  And when I was finally able to put my feet back on American soil…well.  That was quite a homecoming. 

Those same emotions overcame me just two weeks ago as we made the long journey to join my family for our 47^th annual Trail Ride in the Badlands of North Dakota.  We had not been able to go last year, as I was in the middle of chemotherapy treatments for breast cancer, and my doctor said I needed to stay within 100 miles of the hospital.  It was devastating not to be able to experience that homecoming in 2012. But here we were…one year later, anticipating a homecoming that had somehow become even more precious because we had been denied our homecoming the year before. 

When we turned onto the gravel road to Little Missouri State Park, Vern and I giggled out loud together.  We had ached for this day, and it was suddenly upon us and our joy was uncontainable. 

5AM the first day at Trail Ride, Jesus woke me up.  “Get up!”  And so I jumped out of the camper, just elated that my king wanted to spend time with me during my favorite time of the day.  I walked the grounds of the park in my pajamas, telling Him that He is my King.  My All.  My Rescuer.  It was the opening ceremony of a precious homecoming, and Jesus was the perfect host.

But the enemy worked on me hard.  Over the precious days of Trail Ride, old fears occasionally lurched to the surface.  But I had experienced that before, and I knew what to do.  I stood up and began to list the names of God.  To claim again and again that I was a child of the Most High God, and that the enemy had no right to be in my space.  The battles were fierce, but the light of THE ONE who lives in me blazed brightly.

The King of Kings had me grinning ear to ear nearly every waking moment of that homecoming.  I had been weary from the journey.  Battered by the enemy.  But Jesus lifted me UP.  Way up, until I giggled with delight like a toddler.

Beloved, He invites us to come to Him—ALL who are weary—promising to give us rest. (Matthew 11:28)  That is what homecomings are all about.

The LORD sure does know how to host a homecoming event.

And that wasn’t even the big one…