Welcome Home

I listened as the radio announcer asked a famous Christian musician what she expects God will say to her once she goes to Heaven. The singer replied that she was speechless and honestly didn't know. But I knew my answer immediately. God will say, "Welcome Home."

I can remember the first time I heard the now overused quotation from C. S. Lewis: "If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world." That quotation stalked me and stole my sleep because I had lived its truth. I had never felt just right, perfectly comfortable, or at home in my own skin. I knew there must be more to life than . . . well, life. And even though I now know Truth, the haunting feeling of being in foreign land still nips at my heels because my own skin is not my home.

Those thoughts shape my picture of Heaven. It smells like freshly baked bread and chocolate chip cookies and just-out-of-the-dryer sheets. It feels like a cozy afghan and strong arm around my shoulder. It tastes like hot tea with lots of cream and sugar. It sounds like wind chimes and nursery rhymes. It looks like my home, everything familiar but nothing the same.