Heaven: Your Real Home

by Joni Eareckson Tada

Isaiah 65:17

(Isaiah

When a Christian realizes his citizenship is in heaven, he begins acting as a responsible citizen of earth. He invests wisely in relationships because he knows they’re eternal. His conversations, goals, and motives become pure and honest because he realizes these will have a bearing on everlasting reward. He gives generously of time, money, and talent because he’s laying up treasures for eternity. He spreads the

Does he then ignore politics as they are not trasures foe eternity

good news of Christ because he longs to fill heaven’s ranks with his friends and neighbors. All this serves the pilgrim well not only in heaven, but on earth; for it serves everyone around him.

To pursue heaven is to pursue Him. To pursue Him is to find heaven. It’s that simple. If you wholeheartedly pursue Jesus, you can’t help but be heaven-minded and sigh

with Psalm 73:25: “Whom have I in heaven but you?

And being with you, I desire nothing on earth.” Some will say, though, “Wai...

Suffering makes us want to go there. Broken homes and broken hearts crush our illusions that earth can keep its promises, that it can really satisfy. Only the hope of heaven can truly move our passions off this world—which God knows could never fulfill us anyway—and place them where they will find their glorious fulfillment. When I was on my feet,

When you meet Jesus face-to-face, your loyalty in your hardships will give you something tangible, something concrete to offer Him in return. For what proof could you bring of your love and faithfulness if this life left you totally unscarred?

The clock has stopped. The universe has flashed and cracked. The flood has swept the dam. Bright angels sift like gold dust from the gash, heralding invitations of the lamb: “Arise ye hobbling, tattered, orphaned, blind, Ye maimed in spirit, measured without merit, by men cast off as useless. Rise and find the crown, the throne, the birthright to inherit. —Douglas Kaine McKelvey9

Whether it’s painfully prolonged or a peaceful passing in the night, I’m strangely comforted by the thought that the servant shouldn’t expect to suffer less than his Master.

There’s another way that departed saints are not diminished and the clue is given in Luke 16:19–31. Jesus relays not a parable, but an amazing real-life occurrence after the death of a beggar named Lazarus and a rich man. The rich man was very conscious of his hellish surroundings as well as the condition of his brothers who still remained on earth, and he wanted desperately to warn his family. He felt, saw, prayed, remembered, and desired. My point? If lost souls can feel and care, how much more can those who have died in the faith!

In heaven, we do not lose, for “to die is gain.” We aren’t less, we’re more. When we die, we’re not in some soul-sleep of a stupor, not purgatory, and we’re

certainly not unconscious. We are at home with the Lord. Home!