Homesick for Heaven by Mrs. I. H. E.

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Dec 16, 1915

Homesick for Heaven

By Mrs. I. H. E.

“THEY say”—so wrote a friend a few days ago—“that it is the aged ones who look forward most constantly and with sweetest anticipation to the homeland; but I am coming to think that when the tale of woe and suffering and sin has reached its culmination, young and old alike who are children of God will be homesick for heaven.”

Never, perhaps, since time began was there an hour when so many widows and orphans, so many homeless and bereft, so many maimed and suffering, so many broken and breaking hearts, filled the earth as at the present. Our minds are staggered at the merest thought of the anguish that racks the world—now, in the hour of its proudest achievements, its highest development, its most wonderful civilization.

If we look about us nearer home, at our own little circle, we find sorrow and care, “with perplexity,” in the life of each. Often a brave front is shown to the world; and this is as it should be, for sorrow on parade, seeking sympathy, loses its sacredness.

But heartache! parents mourning for their wayward sons and daughters; children carrying loads far too heavy for young shoulders; tried and sorrowful husbands; wives whose trust and honor have been violated; friends betrayed; death robbing homes of their most cherished treasures; sin—far worse than death—laying its blighting, blasting touch on young lives radiant with promise. As old Egypt on its night of doom had mourning in every household, so now the souls of the children of men are bowed with grief. Every home has its sorrow, every heart its bitterness.

How comforting, in such an hour, to find refuge in the Christian’s hope! to rest the bruised soul on the precious promises! to remember that God doth not willingly afflict nor grieve the children of men; that while he refines them as silver and purifies them as gold, his eye is upon them, and his arms of love are beneath them! Sorrow may be the teacher that our loving Father has sent to instruct us in the way of righteousness; it may, if rightly received, bring to our hearts a benediction from his throne. “Some golden fruit lies hidden in the rough husk. Some bit of gold in us God designs to set free from its dross by this fire.” Our griefs may become “but the shaded gateway to peace and blessedness.” By suffering, the heart is purged, the faith tried, the love quickened, and the courage and confidence in God increased. Moreover, by it the life is weaned from the unsatisfying, transitory things of this world, and turned toward the better country. “Homesick for heaven!”—a blessed homesickness, provided with a sure and unfailing remedy!

“O sweet and blessed country,     The home of God’s elect! O sweet and blessed country,     That eager hearts expect! Jesus, in mercy bring us     To that dear land of rest, Who art, with God the Father,     And Spirit, ever blest.”

MRS. I. H. E.