03.02. The Home Over There

THE HOME OVER THERE

I studied about California as a boy in school, in the Indian Territory. I never dreamed of going there for it was a land far away, with no particular appeal to me. As I grew older, neighbors began to move to the West Coast. They wrote of the beautiful land they had found there. A neighbor came back and spent an afternoon telling us of the wonders of that country. Then my brother went to California and after a few years returned for a brief visit. He brought with him a suitcase filled with oranges and said, "Out West they can be bought for five cents a dozen." These things began to interest me. I found an old geography book and looked at that long yellow strip on the western slope of the United States. As I looked at that map a longing came over me to see the Golden State.One day I went to the railroad station and asked the price of a ticket to California. The agent gave me the information and a map of the country through which I would have to pass to reach my destination. I began to study the map. I read the name of every town on the route. As I thought about the trip my fever rose and I began to make plans to go. At last I got the money, purchased a ticket and boarded the train for California.

I shall never forget that trip -- the wide rolling prairies (unbroken in those days by farms), the towering snowcapped mountains, the long, dark, dank tunnels and the hot, dusty, seemingly endless desert. One night as we rolled through the desert I pulled the blinds and settled back to sleep. When I awoke the next morning the desert was gone, and we were traveling through the most delightful country my eyes had ever beheld. Beautiful homes, flowers and orchards were everywhere. I was so thrilled that I forgot about the plains, the mountains, the tunnels and the desert. At last I had reached the land for which I had longed so many years!

Longing For Home When a child I used to hear my mother talk about heaven. Often she went about the home singing, O think of the home over there, By the side of the river of light, Where the saints, all immortal and fair, Are robed in their garments of white!

That, too, was a land far away, and I did not think very much about it. As I grew older, neighbors and loved ones began to move to that country, and so I became interested. I got the old Bible and traced the route. I made inquiry and found the conditions for passage to heaven. As I studied about that land beyond the blue, my desire to see it was increased. Now I am on the way there! Sometimes the journey is across rolling plains or over mountains cold, bleak and high. At other times it is through tunnels dark and dismal, or across deserts dry and hot. I have never become weary of the way, but sometimes I have become tired in the way. I know that someday I will fall asleep while crossing the desert of life, but I will awake to find that the plains, the mountains, the tunnels and the desert of life have been left behind. I will be rolling across the glad hills of God’s glory! Then I will know the truth of the song: The toils of the road will seem nothing When I get to the end of the way.

We Are Interested In Our Homes Here

We are interested in our earthly homes; so why shouldn’t we be interested in the home over there? There are many good people who know more about Boston, New York, Chicago, Los Angeles and Seattle than they know about heaven. You may say, "We can read of those cities." That is true. But you can also read of heaven. You say, "We have loved ones in those cities." Yes, and there are some of us who have loved ones in heaven. I do not believe anyone can give a betterreason for his interest in some city or country in this world than the Christian can give for his Interest in the home over there.

Abraham

Abraham became so interested in heaven that he never built a home. He was content to dwell in tabernacles of clay, "for he looked for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God." He realized that here we have no continuing city; so he sought one to come.

Abraham knew that if he built a home here, the earthquakes would shatter its foundations, the winds would wither its walls and the rains would rot its roof; so he sought a home in the skies.

Monotony

Often the thoughts of going home will help to break the monotony of the journey. My wife made her first trip home after two years of absence. While on the train she was seized with a dreadful toothache. But the pain became lighter the nearer she came to home. She said, "Three hours before the train arrived I had the baby ready, and had on my own hat and coat. I was ready to get off the train and the toothache was forgotten." Why? She was going home.

Today we are on the train of life; we are traveling home. The nearer home we get and the more we think of it, the less attention we pay to the miseries of the world. A Beautiful Passage

One of the most beautiful passages referring to the home Over there is found in the words of Jesus as recorded by John: "Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also."

Heaven Is A Place From this passage we learn that heaven is a place. Heaven is just as much a place as Chicago is a place, and I believe a much better place. You say, "Heaven is a state." I would not argue with you, but just as Chicago is a place located in the state of Illinois, I believe that heaven is a place located in the state of glory. A Prepared Place Not only is heaven a place, but it is a prepared place. I like the personal note in this passage of Scripture. Jesus said, "I go to prepare a place for you." Then, if prepared especially for us, it will exactly suit us. An old mother said to a friend in San Francisco, "Brother Mitchell, do you think I willvknow my son John when I get to heaven?"He answered, "Mother, would you be satisfied if you didn’t?" As she thought of knowing or not knowing her son, tears sprang to her eyes and she said, "No, Brother Mitchell. If I did not know John I would never be satisfied."

"Then, Mother," he replied, "if it will take that to satisfy you, you are sure to know him. For when you get there, you’ll be satisfied."

Made To Measure

We often speak of something as fitting "like a tailor-made suit." Such a suit is made to measure. If you please, heaven is made to measure. Jesus said, "I go to prepare a place for you." A young man was injured in one of the mines of Scotland. He was brought to his home in an unconscious and dying condition. When he regained consciousness his old Scotch mother sat by his bedside weeping. He said, "Mother, why do you weep?"

She replied, "O my boy, your poor head is crushed so badly." The dying boy smiled and whispered, "Don’t cry, Mother, the crown will fit it anyway," and went to be with Jesus. No matter how we may have been marred and marked by sin, if we have found pardon and cleansing in the blood of Jesus, when we get to heaven the crown will fit us anyway. No Two Alike

There are no two people alike. I know the old Southern expression, "They are just as much alike as two black-eyed peas," but there were never two black-eyed peas exactly alike. Scientists tell us that there are no fingerprints the same, and no human voices register alike. No two people are the same. Jesus knows that, and knowing it, He has gone to prepare a place for you, and a place for me, and the places will suit us, because they are prepared especially for us.

Billy Bray Did you ever read the story of Billy Bray? If not, you should do so at once. Billy Bray was an English miner, and a preacher of the Gospel. He would work in the mines until he had saved enough money to go forth and preach. Then when his money was gone and his clothes were shabby he would return to work again. It is said that he established more chapels than any ten preachers of his day.

Billy was preaching one Sunday afternoon in Cornwall. His clothing was very shabby. His suit was frayed at the elbows, baggy at the knees and worn threadbare at the cuffs. A widow in the audience noticed the condition of his clothing and thought of the suits that had belonged to her husband. When the service was over she went to the platform and said, "Billy, I see your clothes are getting shabby.""Yes, lady," he replied. "I have worn them out preaching the Gospel."

She said, "My husband passed away a few months ago. I have a number of his nice suits hanging in the wardrobe at home. And I was just thinking how nice they would be for you." Then she added doubtfully, "If I were just sure they would fit you."

Quickly Billy said, "Did God tell you to give them to me?"

"Yes," she answered. "I am sure that while you were preaching, God told me to give them to you."

Billy said, "Then I know they will fit, for God knows my measure exactly."

Friend, He knows your measure and He knows mine, and knowing that, He has gone to prepare a place for us -- a place that will satisfy every longing and desire of our earth-weary hearts.

Jesus And The Spirit

Jesus is now in heaven preparing a place for us. While He is up there, the Holy Spirit is down here preparing us for that place. It will ultimately be a prepared people for a prepared place. The stones that went into the Temple were so prepared that when brought together they fit perfectly without the use of a hammer or chisel or trowel. Just so will the people of God, prepared by the Holy Ghost, fit perfectly into that place that Jesus has prepared for them. The Father Encourages

While Jesus is preparing a place for us and the Spirit is preparing us for the place, God the Father encourages us on the way. If it were not for His encouragement the way would often be dark. A lady with her little girl moved into a small town and hung out a sign, DRESSMAKER. Not only was she an expert seamstress, but she did beautiful needlework. One day the child, watching her mother embroider, said, "Mother, I wish you would teach me how to do work like that."

"All right," said the mother. "Bring me a piece of cloth."

She brought the cloth. Her mother drew a pattern on it, got a needle and thread and said, "Now, darling, do it this way." The little girl worked hard and faithfully until it was finished. Instead of showing it to her mother she placed it on the sewing table for her to find.The morning the pattern was finished they went downtown. While they were gone a neighbor came to call for the first time. She rapped at the door, but there was no answer. The door was standing open; so she stepped in and called. Receiving no response, she turned to leave when she noticed the child’s embroidery on the sewing table. She picked it up, noted the broken threads, the knots and the dropped stitches. A look of disgust came over her face, and with a sneer she threw it down and walked across the street to a neighbor. "Say," she asked, "have you seen any of the work that woman, who claims to be a seamstress, turns out?"

"No," said the neighbor.

"Well I have," she replied. She explained why she was in the room and said, "I saw some of her embroidery, and it was positively dirty. It was wrinkled; the threads were broken and knotted, and the stitches were dropped. You could scarcely tell the wrong side from the right. I had planned to get her to do some sewing for me, but I would not let her use a needle on anything I have." So she went from place to place telling what she had seen in the home of the new dressmaker.

After a while the mother and the little girl returned. The mother went to the table and saw the finished piece. Smiling, she ran to the child and caught her in her arms, saying, "Darling, Mother is so proud of you." Then, holding up the embroidery, she continued, "Honey, it is wonderful. I never dreamed you would be able to do so well. If you keep on, you will be able to do much better than Mother." The child’s heart was glad and encouraged, and she wanted a new pattern. She was going to be able to do beautiful needlework.

Glory Is Ahead

We are like that sometimes. We go to church and volunteer to lead in prayer. We try to sing or testify. If no one else says anything, the Devil comes along and says, "My, that was awful. You can’t sing. You can’t pray. You are making a fool of yourself and boring every one. If I were you I would quit." Do these things hurt? Yes. But if you did what you did for His glory, you will not go very far before God places His loving arm around you and says, "Child, do not become discouraged.

You are doing well, and you will be able to do better after a while." And so we will, for when He comes "we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is."

We may not be able to sing well now, but in that day angels will desire to listen as we sing he songs of redeeming blood. A Reminiscence The joy of the bridegroom is in the interest which the bride takes in the home he has prepared for her. Up to the time I was married I had never saved anything, though I had a very good job. As my wedding day drew near I began to look for a place to live. I walked the streets ofLos Angeles, looking for an apartment which I could rent for a week. I expected my marriage to be permanent, but I was getting my living quarters on the installment plan a week at a time.

One afternoon I found a place. After I had paid the rent for one week, paid the preacher and purchased the license, I had less than three dollars and a half with which to launch out on the sea of matrimony. The place I rented was a small one-room apartment, with a tiny kitchenette, on the second floor of an old residence. It was cheaply and meagerly furnished. There was an old worn mat on the floor and no curtains at the windows. The green shades were torn. The old chairs had been broken and fastened together with bailing wire. The bed was a four-posted iron bed, and the knobs gone from the posts. The dishes were unmatched and cracked. The knives, forks and spoons were odds and ends. No two were alike.

One side of the table was fastened to the wall, and the other side was nailed to a stick that rested on the floor. The water conveniences were poor, and a two-burner plate resting on an orange box was our cook stove. This was what I had to offer my bride, who had left a beautiful modern home. The day after we were married I took her to the little apartment, opened the door, and, holding her by the arm, I walked in. I watched every expression on her face, and had she turned on me with scorn, it would almost have killed me. She took it in with a glance and then, turning to me with a smile, said, "Well isn’t this dandy! And this is our little home!" When she said that my joy was complete. If my bride was happy, nothing else mattered. The illustration is poor, but I believe Jesus rejoices when His children seem interested in the place He has gone to prepare. I am interested.

I would not want to miss it, Walking up those streets of gold, With the saints and martyrs, blood-washed, Playing on their harps of gold.

Heaven Is A Happy Place

Jesus said, "Let not your heart be troubled." I love to think of that home where trouble never comes, where sickness never enters, where death is unknown.

We will be happy in the fellowship of one another. There are some in this world with whom we cannot have fellowship because there are barriers between us which are insurmountable.

While waiting for a train one day I spoke to a man about Christ. He looked at me blankly, shook his head and indicated that he did not speak my language. I took out my Testament, placed it over my heart and pointed up. Instantly he smiled and shook my hand, then, saying something in hisown tongue, he pointed toward the heavens. What fellowship we might have had but for the barrier of different languages!

One night in a meeting in Chicago I walked back in the congregation and invited a man to go forward for prayer. He quickly touched his lips and ear and shook his head, indicating that he as if to say, "It’s all right. I know Him." In heaven, barriers will be unknown. The confusion of tongues will be done away.

Obstacles of life will be removed, and people will come from the east, and the west, the north, and the south and will dwell happily together in the home over there.

Heaven Is A Place Of Rest To some people rest is unknown. From early morning until late at night they toil. They have neither vacations nor holidays. They love God, but much of the time they are too tired physically to worship Him as they would like. In heaven the struggles will be over. The weary days and dreary nights will have forever passed. There will be rest, sweet rest -- rest from toil, rest from temptation, rest of body, rest of mind and rest of soul.

There we shall meet to never part again; Our toils will then be o’er;

We’ll lay our burdens down at Jesus’ feet, And rest forevermore.

Gregory And Margaret Did you ever hear the story of Gregory and Margaret? Because of Gregory’s love for Margaret he was banished from his highland home. Before leaving he took her in his arms and said, "Don’t cry. Bring your lantern every night; place it upon one of the high rocks near the shore, and sleep by it. As soon as I can find a home I will come back for you." Margaret returned home with a heavy heart, yet glad because he was coming back. Each night she took her lantern, went down to the shore and placed it upon a large rock. Then, wrapping herself in her great fur coat, she slept. Because of her loyalty to Gregory her own people turned her out of home. The people of the town criticized her cruelly. They called her a street-walker and a night prowler. In spite of what they said and did, each night she made her way to the rockbound shore, placed her lantern on a rock and slept in its light on the beach. One night she awoke with a start, thinking she had heard someone call her name. In the distance she heard the splash of a boatman’s oar. She sprang up and listened. There came ringing on the night air, "Margaret." She shouted back, "Gregory," and ran down to the water’s edge to meet her lover. A few days later they sailed away to the home he had prepared for her.

Because our Lord loved this world, men tried to banish Him from it. But before He went away He called the few who loved Him aside and said, "Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I wouldhave told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also." In other words, He said, "Watch and wait. I cannot tell you the day or the hour, but as soon as I have prepared a place, I will come for you."

If we are loyal to Him, loved ones may drive us from home, friends may turn against us, the world may criticize us, we may be called stargazers, fools or fanatics, but if we stay near the shore and keep our lamps trimmed and burning, one of these days we will hear the splash of the boatman’s oar. The "Old Ship of Zion" will come sailing around the bend. We will hear our names called, and with a "good-bye" to this world with its sorrow and woe, we will fling our grips on board and sail away to the home over there.

I know of no better way to express my personal feelings about it than by quoting an old song I used to hear my mother sing:

I’ve heard of a city, far up in the sky, I want to go there, I do.

’Tis built in the land of the sweet bye and bye, I want to go there, don’t you?

There Jesus has gone, to prepare us all homes, I want to go there, I do. Where sickness and sorrow and death never come, I want to go there, don’t you? When the Old Ship of Zion shall make her last trip I want to be there, I do. With head all uncovered, to greet the old ship, I want to be there, don’t you? When all the ship’s company shall meet on the strand, I want to be there, I do. With songs on their lips and with harps in their hands, I want to be there, don’t you?

I want to be there, I want to be there, I want to be there, I do.

I want to be there, I mean to be there, I expect to be there, don’t you?

Mother My mother was a quaint little old-fashioned woman who had been reared in the deep South. She never lived in a town and was never in a large city. She did not know a great deal about this world, but she knew much about the home over there.

After I was saved, I visited her as often as my revival meetings would permit. Our yard did not have a gate, but the old-fashioned steps that went over the fence. If Mother saw me coming shewould meet me at the steps, and as soon as I reached her she would put her arms around me and say, "Son, I am so glad you have come! When are you going away?"

I would have to answer, "I can stay only a few hours, or overnight."

She would say, "Oh, I hoped you would stay a long time. It seems that you always have to hurry away. I wish we could be together as we used to be."

I would explain to her that I had to conduct a meeting. Many times I had gone out of my way for the short visit. When the time would come for me to leave she would often bid me farewell with these words: "Good-bye, son. If I do not see you again here, I will meet you in the treetops when Jesus comes.

Mother’s Death

Then there came that sad day -- which has come to many of you -- when I received a telegram which said, "Come quickly. Mother not expected to live." When I reached home I found her very low, but conscious. The old country doctor, who had been our friend and family physician for over twenty-five years, said she would not recover. We called in a brilliant young doctor from the city. I shall never forget his words when he came from her room. He said, "The old doctor has told you the truth. She will not get well. She may live a week or several weeks, but she will get no better; daily she will grow weaker."

I had been home several days and had to leave for a meeting in Washington. I went into her room and, kneeling beside her bed, I took her in my arms and said, "You have been one of the best mothers a boy ever had."

She feebly answered in her quiet humble way, "Not as good, son, as I ought to have been."

"Yes, Mother," I said. "I do not see any way in which you could have been better than you have."

Again she said, "Not as good as I ought to have been."

I said, "Mother, I have to leave. I have a meeting to conduct, and if I do not go now I cannot get there in time.

She placed her withered old arms about my neck, and with a faith that for more than sixty of her eighty-three years had been based upon the teachings of the Bible, said, "Good-bye, son, I will meet you in that better land where there will be no sad partings."

I loosed her arms from around my neck, folded them upon her breast and walked out. I never saw her again. A few weeks later I was handed a telegram as I entered the pulpit in Boise, Idaho. It read: "Mother went home at seven-ten tonight." When We Meet Again That is not the end of the story. I said I never saw her again, and that is true. But by the grace of God I expect to see her in that home over there. I have often wondered if, when by His grace I enter that beautiful city and meet my mother again, she will throw her arms around my neck and say, "Son, I am so glad you have come. When are you going away?" In that day I will be able to answer, "Mother, I am not going away. I have held my last meeting. I have made my last trip. I am not going away this time, Mother. I have come home to stay."

We’ll never say good-bye in heaven, We’ll never say good-bye. For in that land of joy and song, They never say good-bye.

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