Walking the Holy Road together

"There will be a highway called the Holy Road. No one rude or rebellious is permitted on this road. It's for God's people exclusively -- impossible to get lost on this road. Not even fools can get lost on it. No lions on this road, no dangerous wild animals -- Nothing and no one dangerous or threatening. Only the redeemed will walk on it. The people God has ransomed will come back on this road."

I have this image of the dispossessed walking down this road carrying only a few things on their backs, but smiling like the sky is wide. Isn't that such a wonderful message, a wonderful idea, a wonderful scene?

God says the ransomed will come back on this road. He says they will sing as they make their way home to Zion.

Friends, that's life. That's what we should be doing. From the moment we are born, through Santa's giving, through the loss of Santa, through the rebirth of Santa with the birth of our own, through the loss of Santa again, through the rebirth of Santa with our grandchildren, this time of the year above all else should be a time where we recognize that we're homeward bound.

A road a mile wide.
A road filled with strangers who could never be strangers.
A road filled with those whose hearts have been strangely warmed.
A road filled with those who care more about others than they do themselves.
A road filled with the people God has ransomed.

The Bible says there will be "unfading halos of joy encircling their heads, Welcomed home with gifts of joy and gladness as all sorrows and sighs scurry into the night."

Let me write that again, please. "gifts of joy and gladness as all sorrows and sighs scurry into the night." Not even the sighs will be allowed to remain with us as we walk the Holy Road.

This day three years ago, my mother died. I've been surprised at home much I've missed her, since we've lived apart from her for many years. But I have missed her dearly. I miss her lop-sided wisdom. I miss the phone calls I made to her every weekend. I miss her.

But what carries me through, carries us all through most especially at this time of the year when we miss our loved ones the most, is the idea, the notion that we're all walking home and that one day, we will MAKE IT.

Oh, the joy that fills my soul. The idea that not only will I see Jesus, not only will I finally put a face on the spirit that is God, but somehow my loved ones who went before me will be in that gathering around the throneroom, too. That they've already made their way to Zion, with unfading halos of joy encircling their heads.

That, moreso than whatever gift might be under the tree, is what makes everything we do, everything that goes wrong, everything that hurts and everything that makes us struggle all okay.

"Blind eyes will be opened. Deaf ears unstopped. Lame men and women will leap like deer, teh voiceless will break into song. Springs of water will burst out in the wilderness, streams flow in the desert. Hot sands will become a cool oasis, thirsty ground a splashing fountain. Even lowly jackals will have water to drink and barren grasslands flourish richly."

Oh, what a gift.