Hebrews 11 pilgrims are always looking toward their souls’ true home: eternity with Jesus. This earth is not our home, and we are wanderers and nomads here, just passing through. Keep your eyes open, because we are going home soon.
I love people who see themselves as pilgrims on this earth.
Hi, I’m Joni Eareckson Tada and when I speak of pilgrims, I’m talking about the people of Hebrews 11. It says of these pilgrims that they don’t “receive what was promised, but they saw it all from a distance and welcomed it. They agreed that they were foreigners and nomads here on earth. Obviously, people who say such things are looking forward to a country they can call their own.” And like those people who are looking for a better country, I am so happy to call myself an exile, a stranger, a nomad here on earth. In other words, I just don’t feel quite at home here; I am looking forward to a homeland for my soul.
And whenever I run across a Christian who thinks this way, I know I’ve found a kindred spirit. Like twenty-year-old Michele. I met her when we were at a funeral for her father who had passed from cancer. As I was wheeling away from the graveside service, Michele ran up to thank me for coming. And then she shared a remarkable conversation she had with her daddy just the day before he died. She said, “Joni, my father was restless and unable to let go. And I was sitting by his bedside. But I told him, ‘Daddy, it’s okay. You can let go.’ He gathered his strength and said to me, ‘But, honey, I won’t be here to walk you down the aisle.’”
Now, Michele wasn’t even engaged to be married. And it hurt to watch her father needlessly pile anxiety on top of his physical pain, and so, Michele said, “Oh, Daddy, please do not worry about my wedding. Don’t let that distress you. You’re a man of Hebrews 11. You’re a nomad, Daddy, you’re a stranger here, and you’re heading for a far better country, a homeland in heaven.” She went on to tell him, “There’s nothing to miss about my earthly wedding, daddy. My dress will fade and become torn. My wedding photos will yellow with age. My body will grow old and turn to dust. But everything in heaven will last forever, and I will meet you at the real wedding on the other side!”
Her father immediately relaxed. A knowing smile crossed his face, and he nodded. What she said was so true. He was heading for a far better country. And the next day Michele’s father peacefully stepped into the other side of eternity. Somehow this daughter found the composure to say not only fitting words to her father, but true words, selfless words. She didn’t dwell on things that she would miss, like her dad not being around to walk her down the aisle; rather, Michele focused on what her father’s soul needed to hear at that moment. True words. Powerful words. Hebrews 11 words. Because her wedding dress will fade, and her body will turn to dust. These are facts we need to rehearse every day.
When affliction forces my eyes upward, and I strain to see what is unseen, when I need to interpret my pain in light of eternity, you can often hear me sing: “This world is not my home, I'm just a-passing through.” ‘Cause compared to eternity, the saddest heart can be assured that “this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” Oh, friend, keep your eyes scanning for heaven’s horizon, ‘cause you will be home soon.
© Joni and Friends