Home from the Trenches

“Home at last, thank God!” we can almost hear him say as he leaps up the steps leading to the open door, with the light shining through it—the glory of home. Home from the mud, the filth, the vermin of the trenches―home from the strained horror of the hourly contact with the hovering angel of death―home from the deadly terror of the shrapnel and the bullet―home, travel-stained and weary―but here it is, “home, sweet home,” where love awaits him. His glad eyes drink in the loving smile of his wife’s face, as he eagerly springs to her embrace. Close by his boy is shouting through the open door, “Father’s come home,” and the whole house rings with the joy of that home-coming. And oh! the gladness of the few days’ rest; the luxury of loving care and loving smiles; to breathe the atmosphere of home, and to feel the quiet peace of love’s abode after all the storm-tossed hours of devastating war. Thank God, too, the warriors of the Cross can look forward to their home-coming. “There remaineth a rest to the people of God.” And one glad day “leave” will be given to us to go home and rest. Then we shall forsake the trenches of sin forever-leave a scene where the devil has “dug himself in,” with all its defilements and sinful discomforts, and go home.
And the light of that home will shine upon us as we reach it; and the angels will shout our “welcome home”; and the Lord of angels will greet us at the heavenly portals; and the garments of our earthly warfare, and the weapons of the conflict, will no more be worn, for they will be no more needed. But in the high festival of heaven we shall walk with Him in white, the mighty Conqueror over death and the grave, and the song of the victor will be ours to sing, and the glory of complete and lasting triumph will be ours with Him for all eternity, in the rest and joy of heaven.