Not One Night

The world is a broken bone, saturated with death and sadness too deep and terrible to name. Lord, we need you. “Prayers for all involved in tonight’s heartbreaking tragedy.” Not a night will pass where that won’t be applicable, where that won’t receive a bowed head and wet eye in response. Not a night will pass where there will be no voice crying out to their God begging for relief, for forgiveness, for something to hold on to. Not a night will pass where a child won’t wail for a mother who can’t help and a father who is no longer there. Not one night.
But there is hope. Morning is coming. The Son will rise as He said He would. Your heart, so shadowed and heavy with darkness, will at last feel the warmth that sends the demons howling to the depths.

“The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light.” – Romans 13:12

We are promised not one night upon this earth. In a millisecond, what you imagined to be just another night becomes your closing. Eternity awaits, and this simple message of salvation is the one that should be upon our lips every waking moment. It is the only one that matters. With so little time, we have everything and nothing to lose when it comes to sharing God’s love. Take heart, for morning is coming.

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” – Romans 21:4



I’m what most people would call a homebody. I don’t like leaving home and therefore do not do it often (I’m completely serious; I barely get out of my room unless it’s for church or piano lessons), and when I’m away from my house up on the mountain for too long I begin to feel worn out and sick. Just the sight of home can bring a smile to my face and steady my heart. But less than three years ago I called an entirely different house my home and wouldn’t even dream of calling where I’m currently sitting home. When I first moved, it felt strange to sleep in the house on the mountain because it wasn’t home yet. I still was attached to my previous house. (Forgive me if I overuse the words home and house a little bit; I’m afraid it cannot be avoided.)

You see, there is a decided difference between a house and a home. A house is a building. It’s a set location and cannot be changed. A home, however, is a different story. It’s an idea. You don’t have to even live in the house for it to be your home. It changes whenever you do. It’s where the things you love most are, where you feel comfortable and the most relaxed. It could be a leaky old shack with glass missing from the windows, but you wouldn’t care if it were your home. Everyone needs someplace to call home.

When I think of my home, I get a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. I don’t know what you get, but I assume it’s something similar. It’s wonderful, isn’t it? Home? No matter what state it’s in it is hard to find fault with it. But guess what? Our homes on Earth are temporary. They will crumble away to dust just like everything else. Because no matter how much you love this home here, it’s only preparing you for something better.


Heaven is our truly perfect home. It is so beyond anything we could create on Earth or even dream of. Its majesty and beauty are unparalleled and cannot be compared with anything else. The image we have in our heads when we think of Heaven does not come anywhere near the real thing. The places we call home down here on the blue planet are giving us periphery hints as to the glory of Heaven.

And to think there is a mansion waiting for me! I pray that you, as well, have given your heart to God so that we may rejoice together in Heaven, which my mother likes to describe as the party that will never end.

So you know what? As strange as it sounds, I’m excited for death, because that is the day my Father takes me away from suffering and I go where pain, sadness, heartbreak, and every other evil, Satan-infused thing does not exist, so that for the first time I can properly say, I’m home.