Going Home

One week ago today I received a phone call that changed the course of the day entirely. Back in Florida last Friday we were planning to take our girls to see "Tangled" once again but instead found myself breaking that date to be planning a trip that one would rather not take. But today I go home. Later this afternoon I will navigate the snow covered roads to board a plane transporting me to a destination far warmer than this one. Although I miss the dance parties with my little girls, their sweet gentle voices that remind me of how deeply I am loved, and especially the late night Scrabble nights with my wife that fill my soul and appease my need for quality time, I leave this place with sorrow. Please do not confuse this statement and read into it as if I leave here without hope or that I leave here without peace; that's not what my statement communicates. It clearly means to me that although I am a man full of faith reverent to a God that is omnipresent, I'm not apathetic. Nor should we be! More importantly we take joy in suffering (not that it is pleasurable and not because it demands comfort) but because Jesus endured grand suffering to teach us where you may receive unmatched comfort. So going home in a sense can feel, at the same time, like a funeral and a wedding. Today the doctors have stated that my brother is no longer considered a potential short-term brain damage patient but a long-term one. That I'm sure leaves you with questions. With all honesty I'd love to satisfy your queries and quench your thirst for answers, but I'm unable to fill that need even for myself. I've found that the more information I gather the more questions I have. Not that knowledge is poor or discounted, it just doesn't do the trick. Add to that the flashing signals that test you. Like the fact that there is a Chaplin focusing on our family well knowing all the educated facts delivered from my brother's physician. Being a pastor I know that side of the table all too well myself. So there is significant reason for us to be concerned with my brother's current prognosis. He is not getting better nor is he getting worse. He is just in this "waiting room" that seems to be no different than us. A place between going home, somewhere in Vicksburg, and "going home". I long for both to happen. Yet I would be more concerned if I knew that his destination will end here. You see Brad had an encounter with this guy named, Jesus. It's been some time since they met and they've been friends for years. He's really a great guy; Jesus that is! Brad, too. But Jesus changed Brad's life. Not me or his fiancé, although each of us have had some significant influence, but Jesus. Words cannot express how my heart fills with thankfulness due to an encounter with Jesus. This type of security surely comforts a man that must get on a plane and go back to serving his family in a different capacity. This man knows confidently that Brad's destination will be a sanctuary of healing and joy no matter the direction his health takes. You see going home isn't easy or sometimes even what we want to do, but it is what we need to do. It is a place of comfort, a place of reconciliation and rest, a place in which our "heart" is satisfied. So I will gladly go home and fully lean on God's promise in Jeremiah 29:11. That He is intentional and out for our benefit, not our pleasure. I will rest assured that He can be "big brother" in supplement of me. So I ask you to continue to pray for Bradley. Please continue to pray for my family. Please continue to pray for the families that are here suffering and possibly not being prayed for. And please take a moment to take an inventory of your current values and the life that you've been granted stewardship over. I'm going home. May I ask about you?