I have a house, a fine little log cabin that a friend of ours built for Nicole and I just a little over five years ago. It is situated on a plot of ground, just a little under two acres on the side of what used to be called Wehunt mountain; the place is beautiful to me. I have two automobiles, that although they are not new, they still run, most of the time, and have been running for a while. I have a wife and four children that are all wonderful, the greatest treasures that I have been given in this world. I am healthy, as far as I know. I have some friends, I have a wonderful family, a great heritage, and enough money to make it though today and tomorrow. I’ve got it made!
In all of these wonderful gifts, it would be very easy to forget that “this world is not my home.” Hebrews 11:13 says,
“These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on earth.”
In every man or woman of faith, there should be, as Bill Hybels called it, a holy discontent that stems from the fact that we are pilgrims, and though we have been blessed by God on earth with many wonderful things, they are but shadows of the real promises to come. My relationships are but shadows of the fellowship and communion to come “when we all get to heaven.” My possessions are just shadows of heavenly treasures that would mock the worth of these gifts below. I must not lose focus, as I am walking on pilgrim ground; my home is yet afar off. This faith longing pleases God (Heb. 11:6). I must walk in faith, looking to the day that I will enter my homeland, breathe that heavenly air, and settle for eternity, a pilgrim finally at rest with His God.
