TRAVELING HOME from my fiftieth high school reunion, images, faces, voices, and hugs drift in and out of my consciousness. Over all the years, my gypsy life-style kept me from earlier reunions, so the shock of recognition abruptly interrupted my denial of age.
There we were—once eighteen-year-old kids transformed through time and circumstance into our grandparents! Flickers of recognition came with face-to-face encounters. . . and name tags. The incomprehensible time-warp undeniably revealed the physical dilapidation and/or expansion of our former selves. Young, athletic, beautiful bodies and academic aptitudes obviously retired to give way to following generations.
Ghosts of high school past moved with us as we toured our old and remodeled high school building. Echoes of our young voices, laughter, and drama still drifted through those halls and classrooms. The next evening at dinner we stood in solemn silence for classmates who’ve passed on. At eighteen, we felt immortal. Yet, like flowers of the field, we shall all fade and fall. Then who will remember our glory days under the sun? Less than a speck within eternity, our earthly lives glow for a moment then disappear. We cannot fathom the passing of time because we were designed and created for eternity.
While living in Alaska, I witnessed night skies shimmering with aurora borealis—undulating celestial lights dancing to a cosmic rhythm beyond our earthly preoccupations. Myriads of stars, so clear and brilliant against the cold Arctic blackness, beckoned my spirit to join their opulence within the vastness of a universe that stretches. . . forever. Some labels say, “Made in China,” but each of us bear a label that reads, “Made for Eternity”.
Our finite minds cannot grasp “forever” or the vastness of space, eternity, or the omnipresence of Eternal God. Though ignored, trampled, and denied, He remains the Epicenter of all things, the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End. He is the forever “I AM,” existing from eternity past to eternity future. The Day will come when of His kingdom there shall be no end. God created us for Himself because all things were created by Him and for Him. He alone holds all things together. Nothing is too infinite or too finite for Him. Nothing and no one escapes His notice or attention. Ever.
We stand beneath the stars and before His throne by grace. Only by undeserved favor we enter His dimension, and that by the blood of the Lamb of God through faith. Not Alaska, nor Texas, nor the whole earth, nor the universe can contain His house. Yet. . . He lives within the hearts of those who receive Him and brings us into the House of God both now and forever!
No matter what changes the years have brought to us or taken from us, these amazing truths were written to show us the way to God and encourage us to finish well:
For this is what the high and exalted One says— he who lives forever, whose name is holy: “I live in a high and holy place, but also with the one who is contrite and lowly in spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite (Isa 57:15).
I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. Whom have I in heaven but You? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever (Psa 73:23-26).
We’re all traveling “home”. May each of us run to Jesus, the Good Shepherd, the Door, and “dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Thank you for traveling through the 23rd Psalm together with me. As we conclude these mediations, I trust God’s Spirit ministered His love and grace to your heart, strengthening you to follow Him wholeheartedly in these last earth days.
With love and prayers,
MarJean
OUR RELOCATION to Alaska 9/9/‘99 without a job once again tested our faith. We moved into the bottom of our second son’s duplex and looked for work. After three long months, a position opened for my husband at our new church to run the Resource Center. Here we were: near our children, in a good church, with a job, back in ministry, and living in a house instead of a motel. Six weeks later we celebrated God’s grace and goodness at a staff Christmas party, about which I journaled:
I KNOW . . . sounds like a sitcom. Yet, God pursuing us with goodness and mercy all the days of our lives is so much more than characters humorously portrayed on stage.
ONE COLD SPRING our banty hen sat on a clutch of eggs. As they began to hatch, my mother brought them into the house for warmth. My five year old sister sat wide-eyed as she leaned over the hatching chicks, unknowingly imprinting her beautiful little face into their bird brains. As their fluff dried, they instinctively began to move toward that imprint. She moved away. They followed. She moved faster. On they came, peeping their little hearts out. To this day she doesn’t like birds! Under ordinary circumstances, the mother hen keeps close track of her babies and they respond to her call.
TODAY WE LEFT THE SWELTERING HEAT of Tennessee and began our journey back home through Missouri, from where I presently write. This evening, after driving through constant and heavy freeway traffic and dodging a multitude of freight trucks, we relax in little Smithville outside of Kansas City.
WE SUDDENLY find ourselves in Tornado Alley! Just an hour ago we passed through gently rolling hills beneath a warm sun and clear sky. I wondered how to write about the presence of my enemies in this tranquil place where grazing cattle and hay bales dot the hillsides. However, this South Dakota highway took us straight toward an ever darkening horizon until we drove right into a storm. Now lightening flashes and torrents of rain beat against the windshield. We cautiously watch the horizon for any descending funnels. The earlier peaceful, pastoral landscape actually engages a clear and present danger. Seventeen years ago I wrote about a different kind of “tornado alley” in my journal:
IT’s dinner time and I’m hungry. I come from a rich German heritage of meals served on time and at the table—I know. . . practically unheard of in this generation. T.V. dinners, pizza-and-a-movie, fast food, take-out, meals on the run. . . yet, we miss something.

SOMETHING about feeling alone. . .something vulnerable, unprotected, exposed. Why don’t I hear strange noises at night unless I’m home alone? Why do I feel completely comfortable in strange situations with my husband, but most uncomfortable by myself? The simple presence of another person can make us feel stronger and more courageous.
DAD AWAITED all the pain and trauma of his second lung cancer surgery. The Doctor told him he needed to go through with it for Mom who needed him as she struggled with her own health issues. As an incurable visionary all his life, that wasn’t exactly the retirement Dad had idealized. Caught between a rock and a hard place, the shadow of despair fell upon him and he lost his will to live.