This weekend is Memorial Day. So, today I drove back to my roots in my hometown, Titonka, Iowa. There I went to the cemetery where my Mom and Dad are buried. Like a dutiful son, I placed a bouquet of reusable plastic flowers on their grave. Something about reusable and plastic takes away the lump in my throat and puts a smile on my face.
It was a time of several hours of nostalgia as I went to their graves and my grand-parents graves. As I walked and looked at the names on the tombstones, I realized that there sure were a lot of people out there that I know. I’m noticing that as I age, more and more of my friends are dying.
Before leaving, I drove around, what the locals call, Tyke. The town where I once was a prince on a bicycle, now seemed empty. The kingdom that once knew me so well, only stared back with a hollow gaze. Indeed, I was a stranger in my own home town.
What’s the lesson I learned today? Life goes on, even if you’re not there.
Oh well, the Bible says neither Tyke, nor my present residence, is my home. In Ephesians 2:19 I am told, “So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints, and are of God’s household.”
One day, my name will be on a tombstone. Though my body might be six feet under, I’ll be home.
My home is in heaven. Where is yours?
Praying for you all,