On Your Way Home

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ummertime was the most wonderful time of the year for me as a kid because summertime meant three very important things:  school was out, I could go barefoot, and I could ride my bike anytime and anywhere (well, almost anywhere) I wanted.  I would wake up in the morning and have the whole day ahead of me.  The waking hours were filled with all kinds of possibilities of things to do, places to go, and people to see.  Sounds like I was some big-time explorer with some big-time plans for making a grand discovery, doesn’t it?  Well to me, it felt pretty much like that.

One of my favorite things to do was to ride my bike.  All the kids in our neighborhood had bikes and we rode them all the time.  Most of the time, we would ride in the neighborhood, not too far from our homes.  But we also broadened our horizons, widening the boundaries of our jaunts, venturing across town to the park, or to get ice cream at one of the small convenience stores that dotted our town.

But I also enjoyed the rides I took by myself.  I enjoyed these the most because I usually ended up at the same location, grandma and grandpa’s house.  They lived only a mile away but we always described it as “clear across town,” and sometimes it seemed that their home was the furthermost outpost in the city.

Whenever I arrived, both my grandparents were always glad to see me and anything in the cabinets, the refrigerator, or under grandpa’s chair was game.  Grandpa’s chair was where the most precious of all treasures, Snickers candy bars, was hidden.  Those candy bars were always a special treat because grandpa loved them so much and he always handed me one (or two) when I went over to visit.  But the cookies, the cakes, the ice cream, and anything else were always sampled as well.

Usually, my mom would call me at grandma’s to see what time I was leaving for home.  She usually had something she wanted me to pick up on my way home from one of the local grocery stores.  She always said the same thing, “On your way home….”  Sometimes it was a loaf of bread, a pack of cheese, some sugar, or something to drink.  At other times there were several items but always there was something for me to pick up on my way home.

Jesus left the following instructions for his disciples and for all those who would become believers in him because of their testimony and witness.  In Matthew 28:19 we read these words, “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” This passage of scripture is usually referred to as The Great Commission because Jesus gave his followers a big assignment.  They were told to make disciples everywhere they went and to share the truth of God’s word with all those around them.

I like to think of this passage in light of my mother’s phone conversations with me while I visited with my grandparents.  I believe Jesus wanted us to understand that on our way home, we are to pick up as many people as we can and bring them with us.  Now, what we have to understand is that we are on our way home every waking moment of our lives.  As long as we are taking in air, as long as our hearts are beating, and as long as we remain here, we are on our way home.  That means we must constantly be about the task of picking up people and telling them about Jesus and his love for us.

As I grew older, I exchanged my bike for a car. However, whenever I visited my grandparents, mom still called and still told to me pick up things on my way home.  Since I had a car, however, I could pick up more things and carry more responsibility.  I believe it is the same with us as we mature in Christ.  We move from a spiritual bike to a spiritual car, being able to pick up more, to carry more, and to deliver more as we mature and grow in our walk with God.  Even today, one thousand miles away from 511 South Elm Street where my grandparents used to live, I still make myself a mental note to pick up certain items on my way home.  What are you picking up on your way home today?