What the world calls a myth, God calls a homecoming.
In Isaiah 40, God invites his people to be comforted: “Comfort ye, Comfort ye my people, saith your God” (v. 1). Yet, when we continue reading Isaiah 40, we find God challenging the people to believe in Him, believe who He is, and believe what He has done, can do, and will do.
We comfort ourselves with the assurance that God exists, that God cares for us, that God supplies our needs, and that God responds to our prayers. Like the Israelites, we may think God has forgotten us, but He has not. We may think He does not know where we are, but He does. We may think God is hiding, but He will never abandon us. We may think God is not listening to us, but His ears are always attentive to us.
We comfort ourselves with this assurance: “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint” (Isaiah 40:31).
Rafael E. Pino said, “Perspective is the way we see things when we look at them from a certain distance, and it allows us to appreciate their value.” Today, from our present perspective, we may not have any appreciation for death. Yet there is a different perspective of both death and heaven.
If you walk outside in the evening, you can look up and see a most beautiful panorama of God’s handiwork. And during the day, God’s beauty surrounds us. Now I say to you, with such beauty before us here, how beautiful heaven must be!
The psalmist spoke of heaven and death from a different perspective when he said, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints” (Psalm 116:15). From a human perspective, death is a time of sorrow, of loss, of defeat, and of separation. But for the Christian, it is a time of release, of reunion, of rest, and reward.
Too often we think of death as coming to destroy everything for which we have lived. We should picture death as coming to save those we love. We often think of loss when we should think of gain. We think of separating instead of restoring. We think of closing the door of life instead of opening the gate of eternity. Let us comfort ourselves by looking at death from a certain distance that allows us to appreciate its value.
A Departure
First, here on the earth, death looks like the end; but on the other side, it is the beginning. When you look at death from this earthly side, it seems so final. It appears to be the end of life, the end of relationships, the end of all that we have worked for, all that we have earned, all that we have laid up. But, from the other side, death is not the end; it is the entrance.
Picture the moment—not darkness, not cold silence, not fear—but the sudden, comforting hand of the Shepherd welcoming us home. The weariness of every hard year, every sleepless night, every aching burden, simply lifts. Like a person walking home in frigid rain who finally steps through a door into the warmth of a fire, the soul exhales, perhaps for the first time in years, and thinks, “I am finally, completely safe.” Not arriving somewhere unfamiliar, but somewhere deeply known. Not a strange country, but the promised home you always knew existed—the one your heart has longed for all your life.
Death is not the goal, but the gateway. For the believer in Christ, it is the door into a glorious new life, eternal life.
In 2 Timothy 4:6, Apostle Paul saw his own death not like an ending, but like a ship finally weighing anchor, catching the wind, and sailing toward home. Rightly understood, then, death is not the end. It is the departure from our earthly house of clay, and entering our eternal home, swallowed up in victory.
Death, for the believer, is not what it appears. What looks like an ending is a beginning. What feels like a closing is an opening. What sounds like farewell is, in the ears of heaven, a welcome.
Robert Freeman wrote a beautiful description of death in “Beyond the Horizon.” Note his words:
When men go down to the sea in ships
‘Tis not to the sea they go;
Some isle or pole the mariners’ goal,
And thither they sail through calm and gale,
When down to the sea they go.
When souls go down to the sea by ship,
And the dark ship’s name is Death,
Why mourn and wail at the vanishing sail?
Though onward bound, God’s world is round,
And only a ship is Death.
And when I go down to the sea by ship,
And Death unfurls her sail,
Weep not for me, for there will be
A living host on another coast
To beckon and cry, “All hail!”
A Reunion
Second, here on the earth, death looks like separation; over in the Glory Land, it is reunion.
My favorite description of death is what is said of Abraham: “[He] gave up the ghost, . . . and was gathered to his people” (Genesis 25:8). The expression “gathered to his people” clearly implies something more than being carried back to a cemetery and covered with dirt after eulogies, pastoral comfort, and prayers. Death has a deeper, more spiritual meaning than that.
When Abraham’s sons laid him to rest, they were convinced that he was reuniting with his deceased loved ones. He joined in a glad reunion. This is the hope Apostle Paul speaks of in 1 Thessalonians 4:13, when he says to not grieve like those who have no hope. We have hope of Christ bringing His saints back with Him when he returns to get all those who are alive and remain faithful to Him. What a glad reunion day!
A family friend, Thomas Garrison, died as he lay in the emergency room waiting to be examined. They resuscitated him, and later that year, I asked him about his experience. He said the ER doctor told him to push back and lie on the bed while she examined him. He said that as he pushed with his feet, he was instantly in the most beautiful garden—indescribable, with the most vivid colors. I said, “Wait, Brother Garrison.” He grinned at me and said, “No bright light. No tunnel. One second, I was in the ER, and the next, I was in the garden.”
Now, get this. He said that a crowd was coming to him in greeting, “Welcome, welcome. The Lord is expecting you.” And he said there were no elderly people there—a few children, but no elderly that he saw. I said, “Where did you go?” He said, “I went to paradise, and frankly, I wish they would have left me there.”
A great truth of the Bible is that the moment we close our eyes in death, we open them in the Lord’s presence. And many will rejoice that we have joined the reunion. What a day that will be! Clearly, death is not the end; it is the beginning. It is not parting; it is arriving. It is not separation; it is reunion.
As Christians, we never say goodbye for the last time. We do not say goodbye forever. We say goodbye for now, and there is all the difference in the world. Every grave we stand beside is really a door we are standing before. And so, we do not part with despair, but with quiet, confident hope. We do not say goodbye. We say what the saints have always said to one another across the centuries: “See you in the morning.”
Death is not the period at the end of a sentence; it is the first word of a brand new story.
A Victory
Third, from this side, death looks like a loss; but for the Christian, it is gain. From this earthly side, it appears to be defeat; but from the other side, it is victory. Apostle Paul said, “For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21).
Paul chose his words carefully. “To die,” he said, “is gain.” Not loss. Not defeat. Not erasing everything lived for and loved. Gain. This gain cannot be taxed, cannot be stolen, won’t rust or rot, and will never depreciate.
Songwriter Eugene Monroe Bartlett wrote,
Just a little while to stay here,
Just a little while to wait,
Just a little while to labor
In the path that’s always straight,
Just a little more of troubles,
In this low and sinful state,
Then we’ll enter Heaven’s portals,
Sweeping through the pearly gates.
So, remember, “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint” (Isaiah 40:31). Waiting on the Lord means we are enduring to the end. If you want to know how one waits on the Lord, remember all the faithful saints asleep in Christ. Look at all the faithful saints around you. Here is what we are waiting for.
Over in the Glory Land, there is no more weakness. Over in the Glory Land, there is freedom like eagles soaring across the sky. Over in the Glory Land, there is no more weariness. Over in the Glory Land, there is limitless energy and unrestrained enthusiasm. Over in the Glory Land, there is no giving up or quitting. Over in the Glory Land, walking is fun, with no tired feet or weak legs or aching ankles, aching knees, aching hips, or aching backs.
Over in the Glory Land, we’ll be healthy. Over in the Glory Land, we’ll be happy. Over in the Glory Land, wandering will be over, questions will be answered, tears will be wiped away, all that this world could never satisfy will be fulfilled. Completely. Finally. Eternally.
Because over in the Glory Land, we will be home.
And home, for the child of God, is not just a place. It is where the Savior himself greets you at the door, where the Holy Spirit joyfully hovers around you, where the Father personally welcomes you in. And everything you ever hoped for exceeds your most extravagant imaginations.
Hallelujah.
