I waited to catch a glimpse of his dimpled smile and chocolate eyes donning the white cap and gown, the ensemble proudly worn by every Kindergarten student.
He peeks around the corner and, searching, his eyes find mine. “Pomp and Circumstance” begins and I can read the anticipation creeping over his face like a child on Christmas morning.
It is the end of the school year and a day of celebration: Kindergarten graduation, followed by lunch at the park and Track and Field Day for the oldest of the trio.
The weather was perfect. Everyone was in good spirits. There was no sibling bickering. Really.
As I readied my camera for the group picture, I saw it.
A fleeting moment, a moment I might have otherwise missed, of dissatisfaction.
Even on the “perfect” day, we can find ourselves wondering why our joy is interrupted. I mean, we should be enjoying this, right? We shouldn’t have any negative emotions because everything is just as it should be and for crying out loud, we’re supposed to be having fun!
As I watch my oldest son, I feel my heart rise up in recognition. I know this feeling so well, this “Is this all there is?” feeling that crashes our parties when we least expect it.
I’ve spent countless hours wondering why I sometimes feel dissatisfied when I am more than abundantly blessed.
Or feeling guilty because there are people who live under extreme hardship and I should be appreciative of the fact that I don’t.
Or the worry that maybe I won’t truly ever be satisfied with my life.
But here’s the cold-hard truth: I won’t ever truly be satisfied with my life because this isn’t all there is.
We aren’t supposed to be happy and delighted here on earth all the time. This isn’t our true home nor is happiness the only goal.
In fact, Peter calls us “sojourners and exiles” (1 Peter 2:11) because our own authentic, uninterrupted joy can’t be found here.
I love the words to the old hymn, “The World Is Not My Home”:
“This world is not my home, I’m just passing through,
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.”
We can’t feel at home and our joy is sometimes interrupted because our citizenship is in heaven. We aren’t home.
But when I think of my earthly home, a place of refuge and refuel, a place where we live and love and get angry at each other and forgive and cheer one another on, I exhale. Home is comfort. Home is relaxation. Home is real.
Our real home, the home where our citizenship lies, will be so much more than that.
And that’s joy unspeakable.
But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body. – Philippian 3:20-21
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