Looking toward the cross and home

Looking out the window of the plane while circling over Mt. Vodno in final approach to the airport in Skopje, my eyes eagerly searched for what I knew would be there: the cross.

I was returning to the Balkans after spending three months on home assignment in the US. The sight of the cross at once filled me with the comfort of the familiar, the instant relaxing of shoulders, knowing that my travels would soon be over and I'd be able to rest in the comfort of my own home.

Honestly, it struck me that seeing the cross could be so comforting to me, because no matter how much I may love Skopje and the people here, I am still very aware of my foreignness. [Frankly, I even felt a bit of that same foreignness while in the States...] On reflecting, I realized that the comfort I felt had more to do with the cross and it's meaning rather than its location. My apartment in the city overlooks the cross and I find myself several times each day looking towards it, standing strong in the day and lighting up the night. My eyes instinctively look for it out the window each day, and each time I'm reminded of a cross from so long ago and what God did for us through it.

Unlike the cross on Mt. Vodno, which lights up at dusk and gets turned off at midnight, the cross of Jesus shines brightly, day or night and into eternity. In the same way that my eyes search out the cross each day or upon returning from travels, it's a reminder to fix our eyes on Jesus and to look forward with eager anticipation for when our travels on this earth will be complete and we'll be at home with Him. In the meantime, while we sojourn here in this place, it's our privilege to serve at the pleasure of the King and to see many others come journey with us, looking toward the cross each day and to Home.