Foreign (Write-handed)

15 Nov


I am a stranger in a strange land. My footsteps leave fleeting impressions in the hard earth. The stars remind me that I am simply traveling through, that I am a pilgrim. I belong to a city not built by man. It is a shining metropolis with gates of jewels and gems. Its high walls and wide streets consist of pure gold as clear as glass. Its crystal shores reflect the light of the Son. I am on my way. Home is on the horizon.


I must remember I am a stranger – this is not my home. This is a foreign land, I am simply staying for a while. I am simply waiting to return home, waiting for the preparations to be done, waiting for everything to be ready. I must not forget my home, I must not be influenced. I must not get attached to anything, but live and love as it may be tomorrow. I do not know what day, what hour, what time, but He knows and I must keep watch. I must pay attention, to not be swept up in the cares of the world, to not get pulled downstream. I must be quick to act. It is soon. Soon: when the shining gates and trumpet fanfare of the angels will play. I am on my way. I am coming Home.


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