Today is our beloved country’s 250th birthday and for a miracle, we are in America. Back in Ghana where we work, my colleagues are caring for the needs of 120,000 villagers from both sides of the Ghana/Togo border. If I were back there, I too would be making rounds and operating on emergencies.
Although we have many American friends who are intensely patriotic, I submit that living overseas really helps us appreciate America. Due to the World Cup competitions, the world has come to America and many visitors have been charmed and overwhelmed. There’s a lot of anti-American propaganda out there, and much of it is quite believable. Then there are the few tourists whose poor behavior serves to validate these negative claims. But these people fail to represent the land that has formed them.
We passionately love America! We love the land, the people, the diverse cultures. Returning to Memphis and Mississippi, we wrap ourselves in the warm soft accent and naturally adapt those patterns of speech. Traveling to our home areas in the Middle West and western New York state, we automatically fall into the speech patterns of our youth. After years of moving around, the most precise definition of our accents comes from onlookers who observe, “You aren’t from around here, are you?”
Over the last several weeks while the World Cup games have been played, it’s been amazing to see how one song has continued to dominate celebrations, “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” first popularized by John Denver in 1971. Why has this song resonated with people from so many different countries? Here in America, many visitors have found themselves sharing meals and sometimes even homes with American hosts, who have gone out of their way to help strangers in a strange land feel at home. Ultimately, each one of us hopes for a home, a safe haven that will welcome us, shelter us, encourage us, and strengthen us so that we can go forth stronger and better prepared than we were before.
We have no home in America. Although we have many friends and relatives who are willing to shelter us, our only home remains in a small Ghanaian village half a world away. We miss our Ghanaian friends, our colleagues, and our cat, Gabriel Kitty with a ferocity it’s impossible to describe. At the same time, we are trying to cram in as many visits with friends in America as possible, realizing that this might be the last time we see some of them. In the last few months, we have lost at least 4 or more classmates, and we hope to make it to high school reunions this summer so that we can connect one more time with those remaining.
One of the places we have ministered from time to time is the Central Prison in Tamale, Northern Region. One man who has since been released always led the prisoners in singing the country gospel song “This world is not my home.” The words are trite but very true. One day, each of us will die, and the question is, where will we go then? For Christians, the answer is simple: we will be with the Lord. If you cannot answer that question definitively, I beg you to ask Jesus to make himself so real to you that you KNOW that he has died for your sins and now offers you forgiveness and eternal life, if you will only honor him as Savior and Lord.
This 4th of July, we have sung the national anthem as well as “God Bless America.” But I close with the words to that old gospel classic for your consideration.
- This world is not my home, I’m just a-passing through,
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue;
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.- Refrain:
O Lord, You know I have no friend like You,
If heaven’s not my home, then, Lord, what will I do?
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.
- Refrain:
- They’re all expecting me, and that’s one thing I know—
My Savior pardoned me, and now I onward go;
I know He’ll take me through though I am weak and poor,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore. - I have a loving Savior up in glory-land,
I don’t expect to stop until I with Him stand;
He’s waiting now for me in heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore. - Just up in glory-land we’ll live eternally,
The saints on every hand are shouting victory,
Their songs of sweetest praise drift back from heaven’s shore,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.
PRAYER: Father God, thank You for loving us and caring for us. Lord, please help all who read these words to commit themselves to You so that they will have homes in heaven with You forever. In the mighty and precious Name of King Jesus. Amen.
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