Homesick

I don't think about heaven enough.
And, I really don't write about it enough.
This week, I can't help but think about it.

Right now, friends are travelling back from Ethiopia where they hoped to meet the children their hearts have already claimed.
Right now, friends are praying anxiously for the health of a baby boy suffering from Malaria in the Congo, a baby boy they've already named, the son of their hearts.
Right now, a sister is weeping over the brokenness of her father who is once again in the grips of alcoholism.
Right now, a sister sits by the bedside of her 33 year old husband who has not breathed on his own for nearly three weeks, his body ravaged by an unknown infection.
Right now, a family grieves the sudden loss of a husband, father, grandfather.
Right now, a family wrestles with difficult choices as their savings dwindles to nothing and they wait prayerfully for news from the latest round of job interviews.
Right now, a sister makes a choice every single day to work hard, stay clean and prays nothing happens to prevent her 8 month old daughter from being returned to her custody next week.
Right now, a brother prays that someone will look past the things he's done and see who he is and give him a real chance to build a life on this side of the bars.
Right now, a pastor battered by the humanity of his most recent congregation prays for a new direction for himself and his family.
Right now, a soldier endures separation from his loved ones, scorching heat, and hostile enemies.
Right now, a mother prays moment by moment for a miraculous demonstration of provision to meet her family's most basic needs.

And, I don't just think about heaven or write about heaven.
I long for heaven.

For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. 

2 Corinthians 5:4