In sixth grade, my dad and I set out on an exciting adventure that took us through eight states, from the heart of Oklahoma to northern Minnesota. I vividly remember the preparations leading up to our extraordinary road trip. I had the privilege of playing the role of my father's navigator, armed with just a map, a notebook, and a pencil. In those days, computers and calculators were uncommon. So, tracking the distance to the first rest stop fell entirely on my shoulders. There were many memorable moments along the way, including my siblings' constant questions, "Are we there yet?" and their complaints of tiredness, hunger, and the need for bathroom breaks.
Being my dad's navigator instilled a new sense of responsibility, requiring unwavering focus, undivided concentration, and meticulous precision. Every mile we drove became proof of my diligence and was carefully recorded in my trusty notebook. I calculated our exact location and the remaining distance to our desired destination with steadfast determination. As we drove along highways and interstates, I constantly monitored our progress and counted the mile markers that lined our route. After such meticulous efforts, I would finally pinpoint our current location.
Transitioning into adulthood, my life's journey has taken a different path that involves navigating emotions rather than physical landscapes. The familiar phrase "Are we there yet?" has become an unspoken question: "Have I reached my destination?" Unlike the well-marked roads of our cross-country adventure, this journey through the landscape of grief lacks a clear road map or identifiable mile markers. The twists and turns of this emotional journey are unpredictable, leaving me increasingly frustrated and anxious.
As I inch closer to reuniting with my departed daughter, Texa, my heart is filled with sadness and hope. Each day brings me nearer to the moment I shall conquer death and find solace. Each sunrise brings me one step closer to the moment when my longing and pain will be satisfied by eternity, and my victory over death will be achieved.
Embracing this uncertainty, the final destination of my life's journey remains vague, far beyond my complete understanding. The uncertainty accompanying this journey presents a daunting challenge, which can cause even the most stubborn individual to lose their nerve. In response, I have chosen to anchor myself in the timeless truths of the Scriptures.
Facts have proven faith is an unwavering beacon through life's tumultuous journey. It is a multifaceted and complex quality, often described as the solid foundation upon which we build our hopes and the unshakeable trust we maintain during adversity. The ancient world was known for its unwavering views and drew strength from this unshakable faith. The New International Version Hebrews 11:1 proclaims, "Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." This verse summarizes faith's profound security—a stable strength that keeps us steady under challenging situations. This verse summarizes faith's sense of profound security—a stabilizing force that keeps us stable under difficult conditions.
The theme of the journey appears repeatedly in our lives in various forms. It is a shared experience, from the physical markers of a childhood road trip to the invisible twists and turns of the emotional journey through grief. Faith is a constant companion in times of doubt, providing comfort and convictions. Steven Curtis Chapman's song captures the essence of life's journey, reminding us that our true home awaits just beyond the horizon. As we navigate the landscapes of our existence, we can take comfort in believing that our final destination has not yet been reached: "We Are Not Home Yet."