I sit anxiously in my seat, my face pressed up against the window, eyes soaking up every moment of the passing beauty and wonder of this world. Somewhere below me there is a family bringing home a new baby. Somewhere in the distance there is a family grieving over the loss of their child. Somewhere in this great, big world there is a revival of believers roaring to proclaim the name of Jesus. Somewhere in this world there are those who profess their faith and suffer for it at the end of a blade. I look out the window at this great, big, beautiful world knowing full well that it is filled with joy unimaginable and grief unexplainable. And as the plane lands, I know I’m home.

Tension is in the air, frustration lingers throughout weary voices, and pain is felt within aching and tired bodies. There is all one similar desire, HOME. So we press on toward the line that separates us from our loved ones knowing full well we are closer and closer with each step.

Posters are held in nearly every hand as families and friends welcome home their loved ones. Children run from the side into the mass gathering where they are greeted by the kisses of a mother or father. Mothers call out from the crowd, holding back tears as they pull their far off daughter/son near to them. Husbands run into the sea of people and sweep their beloved off of her feet.

As I emerge from the crowd, full of unfamiliar voices and tones, it is the one voice I hear above all the rest in which my heart leaps with excitement. “GRACIE!” I turn to see my mother and father waiting, welcome signs in hand, eagerly anticipating our reunion. I run for their embrace, no longer anxious about the things I have packed, only longing for the comforting touch of their hands. Somehow, being in their presence I forget about the frustration and the weariness of my journey.

I am home.

I sit in my bed recalling all the stories of the adventures I had and the dreams I lived. My mind races with a thousand thoughts and memories but I only desire few things; to be near, to be home, and to be held.

My dreams of seeing the Eiffel tower came true as I stood beneath it, feeling 2 inches tall and as I climbed to the top, feeling as if I could touch the sky. My adventure of traveling Ireland and walking across a waterfall came true as I tested the waters and faced my fears. I breathed in the air of another country, almost another world, a dream I never thought would come true. I lived life among the natives eating with them, engaging in every conversation, taking every moment captive for this was my grandest adventure yet. However, there were other journeys that left a sting in my heart and a weight in my eyes to see the world in a different way than beautiful mountains and grand monuments.

I learned what it meant to grieve with a child abandoned by its mother as I worked to build an orphanage in Mexico. I listened to a language which held such weight and sorrow speak about joy in the unknown possibility of a future. I watched as children with nothing laughed and smiled in times that I would look at and cry. I taught children in East Asia who came to class day after day with the same outfit as the day before. They had little clothing, little money, and yet they had the greatest joy set deep in their hearts. I watched as their eyes lit up by the sight of a new box of crayons, or how their body became 10x lighter with the simple touch of a loving hand.These were the moments that burdened my heart deeply...

How could a world so big and beautiful, hide brokenness and depravity within the silence of its people’s cries?

How could a world so filled with wonder, still be at a loss for words in the face of tragedy?

As I sat in my car on my way to my comfortable life, watching the planes come and go, listening to the voices of my parents relay events I missed, I began to think…

This world is utterly broken. This world is like a china mug that has fallen to the ground, shattering to thousands of pieces. You can try and pick it up piece by piece, you can try and fix it with glue or tape, but in time that too will prove not enough. The fact is, it is broken and the only was to fix it is to clean up the mess and replace the mug with a new mug.

I don’t know why those children were abandoned by their mom. I don’t know why those kids don’t have new clothes to wear. I don’t know why people murder and lie and cheat. I don’t know why people get raped or die from cancer. I don't know why fathers leave their families or why mothers abuse their children. I DON’T KNOW!

But I do know this. Our world is much like that china mug. It is broken and in desperate need of someone to clean up the mess and make a new cup, one without scratches or scrapes. This world is groaning with the pain of great loss and aching with deep wounds ripped open by oppression. This world is in need of someone to bandage up the wounds and make what is broken new again.

Much like the sitting and waiting on that plane, looking below at the world, seeing the good, seeing the bad, we too are pressing our face to the window. We look at the world around us and see joy and victory, pain and suffering, and we anxiously await the moment that plane lands.

We wait hopefully although tired and weary by the heaviness this world places on us. We press on through the line because we know once we pass through that gate, Jesus will be on the other side holding up signs, welcoming us home with thousands of His angels surrounding us.

And in that sea of people, our ears catch the sweet sound of Jesus calling out to us. We turn to see Him, arms outstretched, saying, "Welcome home." Forgetting the things of the world, the pain, the sorrow, the fear, we run to Him falling into His embrace because being in His presence is greater than life.

Dear friends, hold fast. Our world is broken and hurting. There are things in this world that bring tragedy I cannot begin to imagine. There are things in this world not even I can pretend to understand. There are people whose hearts are hardened by cruelty and seek only to destroy all that is good. It may not seem like there is much good left in this world but fix your eyes on Jesus. He is coming soon and He will sweep up the shattered glass and make things new again. Press on.

We are living in that line at the airport. Our hearts are tired, our bodies are weary, and we desperately seek to be home. Hold fast, redemption is coming. We press on because we know just beyond that gate, in the midst of the crowds of people, our eternal home and our good Father is waiting to welcome us into His presence.