Homesick for Heaven
As I was driving in my car today, listening to music from my homeland, something happened that music often does—it reached into a part of me that I had almost forgotten was there. Suddenly, I found myself reminiscing about Okinawa. The music brought back memories, feelings, sights, sounds, and moments from a place that will always hold a special part of my heart. I was remembering the food, the people, the festivities, and certain places that are familiar to me. I was remembering what it felt like to be there. And before I knew it, I had that familiar twinge of homesickness.
What exactly is homesickness? It is more than simply wanting to visit a particular place. It is a longing for what feels familiar, safe, comforting, and deeply connected to who we are. It is missing the people we love and remembering moments that cannot quite be recreated. It is that ache that comes when you realize that somewhere else feels like home. For me, Okinawa is that place. It is my homeland, and even though I have lived far away for so many years, there are still things about that little island that I deeply miss.
As I sat in my car thinking about all of this, though, another thought began to take shape. If I can become homesick for Okinawa, what does it mean to be homesick for heaven?
Okinawa is a very real part of my story. It is where I grew up, where I have memories and family connections, and where many things feel wonderfully familiar. I will probably always have a special affection for it. But as much as I love Okinawa, it isn’t my ultimate home. Neither is Florida where I currently live, or the state of Maine that I lived in for 28 years. As a Christian, my true citizenship is somewhere else. Paul reminds us, “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Philippians 3:20).
That verse made me stop and think about what it means to long for heaven. Do I ever experience that same kind of homesickness for the place where Christ is? Do I long for heaven with the same kind of affection that I sometimes feel when I think about Okinawa? Do I find myself longing for the day when faith will become sight and I will finally be home with my Savior? To see Jesus face to face? There’s an old hymn we sing that says, “When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be! When we all see Jesus, we'll sing and shout the victory!” Do I get excited just thinking about it? The writer of Hebrews tells us about believers who lived as strangers and exiles on this earth. They were looking beyond the temporary places where they lived because they desired something better. Hebrews says that they “desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one” (Hebrews 11:16). They understood that although they had an earthly home, they were ultimately waiting for something far greater.
Perhaps that is something we need to cultivate as Christians: a holy homesickness for heaven.
Jesus told His disciples, “I go to prepare a place for you” (John 14:2). What an incredible promise. Heaven is not some vague idea of floating around on clouds with harps and cute little wings for all of eternity. It is a real place prepared by Christ for His people. It is home with Him.
And what a home it will be! Revelation 21 tells us that God Himself will dwell with His people. There will be no more death, mourning, crying, or pain. Everything that makes this present world feel broken and temporary will be gone! The things we spend our lives trying to hold onto here—our health, our relationships, our homes, our memories, even the places we love—are all temporary. Yay! But the inheritance waiting for the Christian is “imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven” (1 Peter 1:4).
Maybe that is why earthly homesickness can be a tender reminder of heaven. We can return to a beloved place and discover that it isn’t quite the same as we remembered. People change. Places change. Okinawa doesn’t look anything like it did when I was growing up there. So much has changed. Some of the people we long to see may no longer be there. Even our happiest memories are only now just memories, because those moments have passed. But heaven will never disappoint us. Nothing will be missing there. Nothing will decay. Nothing will be lost. Nothing will separate us from Christ. There will be no need to wonder if we will ever get to go home again, because in Christ, we will finally be home.
So perhaps when I hear that Okinawan music and feel that familiar ache of homesickness, I can let it remind me of something far greater. I can be thankful for the earthly home God gave me and for the memories that still bring joy to my heart. But I can also allow that longing to point me toward the home I have yet to see.
When I find myself saying, “I miss home,” perhaps I can stop and ask myself, “Which home am I really longing for?”
The older I get, the more I realize that even our most precious earthly homes cannot completely satisfy the longing within us. Perhaps that longing is there because we were made for something more. We were made for God Himself. We were made for eternity. And for those who belong to Christ, we were made for home. Our Heavenly home.
As Psalm 73:25 says, “Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.”
I may always have a little homesickness for Okinawa. But my deepest homesickness should be for heaven—not merely because it will be beautiful, peaceful, and free from suffering, but because Jesus will be there!
And one glorious day, I won’t be homesick anymore.
I’ll be Home.
Here’s a wonderful song that says perfectly what I’ve tried to express here.
