I can’t count the number of moves I’ve made, and the people I’ve left behind throughout my life. I never seemed to stay in one place long enough to establish bonds, or I knew I’d be moving on sometime soon, and never opened up to anyone.
Looking back, I was always homesick. Never satisfied with my surroundings. Never content with the people around me. I remember crying out in agony even as a child, “I want to go home!” I was tormented with a desire for something I couldn’t describe.
Then in 1985 I met a hospital chaplain, who introduced me to the Savior. After the chaplain and I married, we moved to Kentucky to pastor a local church. Six years later we moved to pastor another church. Then five years later. Then seven years.
I’ve come to understand that God always gives us a ministry where ever He sends us. Throughout the years our family in Christ nurtured me with love, prayer, and biblical instruction. They showed me glimpses of that unfathomable home—that place my soul yearned for, and my mind struggled to believe in.
Today I know Heaven is my real home.
In Christ Alone,