After seven days being away from home on a mission trip our team of thirteen made our way back from the airport in Saskatoon to come back to the States. We spent our time serving the community of Humboldt by volunteering at a town festival called the Summer Sizzler. We engaged people in spiritual conversations, worshipped with a handful of Canadians, prayed for God to raise much needed pastors throughout the province of Saskatchewan and the whole nation, and passed out hundreds of balloons to children with the First Baptist Humboldt logo printed on them.
When we started our way back home we were all exhausted. The sun does not set in Humboldt during the summer months until around 10:30 p.m. and rises in the morning about 4:30 a.m. We were often up late and out of bed early to start our day’s activities. It was seven days of setting up tables and chair, putting up tents, cleaning, and prayer. When we finally headed back to the States we were all exhausted.
Our flight from Saskatoon to Minneapolis was uneventful. I tried to read a book on the life of Martin Luther but kept drifting off to sleep. I was surprised how fast time went by when the pilot told us to prepare for our landing. After exiting the plane we walked down a long hall way to clear customs. Taylor and I got in what appeared to be a short line. After several minutes had passed I looked up to notice a sign and realized we were in a line for people who were visiting the United States and who were not citizens.
We had to get out of that line. I hurriedly scanned the large room for the shortest line for American Citizens. After a few minutes an agent came from behind the counter to inform us that the line we were in and the line next to us were supposed to be one line. This put Taylor and I even further back. We watched as all the other people from our team cleared customs in a line on the other side of the room while we remained half way back in our line.
Ahead we could see one border agent who was taking three times as long as the other agents to clear people. It seemed he was grilling each person or family with a barrage of questions and holding up the line. Behind us other planes were arriving and every line backed up so moving to another line was not an option. We were trapped where we were. Next to us a lady was talking on her cell phone and agent came out to scold her for breaking this rule. People in the line all around us became impatient as we were forced to wait to reenter the country, many anxious about missing connecting flights. I knew from experience that on the other side we had to reclaim our baggage and pass through another check point where we would turn in our declaration forms and then recheck our luggage before once again going through security before we could actually enter the airport.
It was a trying experience. It was nothing like going through customs to get into Cuba on my first mission trip. There were armed military personnel all throughout the Havana airport. In Minneapolis it was merely a slow methodical process. As we approached the yellow line which represented actually being back on United States soil, I looked up to the agent who was once again grilling those who came to his window. Across from him was another agent who was working much more efficiently. The gentleman who was in front of us unfortunately was ushered by the slow agent to come to his window allowing Taylor and I to be freed up to go the window of the faster agent.
When we were summoned we presented our passports and declaration form. He asked where we had been and what the purpose of our trip had been. I told him we were coming back from Saskatoon where we had been on a mission trip. I will never forget his next words. “Welcome home.” Two simple words that meant a great deal to me. We were home in our native country, the land of the free and the home of the brave.
We didn’t actually get home back in Paradise for another seven hours but crossing that yellow line and walking past his window, I felt I was home. I was in my native land. Our team was back in America. We were once again walking on the soil of the United States.
It felt great to come back home. Since coming home we enjoyed a family birthday celebration at “Babe’s” restaurant with Brenda’s family. Yesterday we celebrated Independence Day around a swimming pool, with great friends from our journey group, ate great American food and watched fireworks for over an hour. It is great to be back home. Today I stood in the familiar pulpit of the First Baptist Church in downtown Paradise and preached from the Proverbs. It is good to be home.
This all got me to thinking. I am citizens of two countries. Yes, I am a citizen of the United States of America. I am also a spiritual citizen of the Kingdom of God and a forgiven and redeemed man who swears allegiance to Jesus Christ the Lamb of God. One day after the trials, adventures, and the ministries of this life come to an end I will be in a different customs line, only this time God Himself will be the customs agent. People will pass under His scrutinizing eye and our passports will be nothing less than a personal salvation experience in Jesus Christ. When we face God and present our passports our names will be looked for in the book of life. If we have not come to God on the merits of Jesus Christ and His mercy there will be no entrance into Heaven but banishment to experience the fury of wrath for eternity.
I can only contemplate the sweet sound the saved will hear as God says, “Welcome home.” We were created for another world. All around people are dying and some are being welcomed into their eternal home while others are being banished into an eternity of suffering and torment. Death comes for us all. Just this week a former sex symbol died of cancer, the “King of Pop” died of cardiac arrest, while a former NFL Quarterback was found shot to death. When death comes for you and me and we wait to go through the customs of eternity I hope you will be able to present the passport of a personal testimony of a salvation experience with Jesus Christ. He alone is the doorway to Heaven. [Jn 14:6] He alone has the authority to welcome us home.
When we started our way back home we were all exhausted. The sun does not set in Humboldt during the summer months until around 10:30 p.m. and rises in the morning about 4:30 a.m. We were often up late and out of bed early to start our day’s activities. It was seven days of setting up tables and chair, putting up tents, cleaning, and prayer. When we finally headed back to the States we were all exhausted.
Our flight from Saskatoon to Minneapolis was uneventful. I tried to read a book on the life of Martin Luther but kept drifting off to sleep. I was surprised how fast time went by when the pilot told us to prepare for our landing. After exiting the plane we walked down a long hall way to clear customs. Taylor and I got in what appeared to be a short line. After several minutes had passed I looked up to notice a sign and realized we were in a line for people who were visiting the United States and who were not citizens.
We had to get out of that line. I hurriedly scanned the large room for the shortest line for American Citizens. After a few minutes an agent came from behind the counter to inform us that the line we were in and the line next to us were supposed to be one line. This put Taylor and I even further back. We watched as all the other people from our team cleared customs in a line on the other side of the room while we remained half way back in our line.
Ahead we could see one border agent who was taking three times as long as the other agents to clear people. It seemed he was grilling each person or family with a barrage of questions and holding up the line. Behind us other planes were arriving and every line backed up so moving to another line was not an option. We were trapped where we were. Next to us a lady was talking on her cell phone and agent came out to scold her for breaking this rule. People in the line all around us became impatient as we were forced to wait to reenter the country, many anxious about missing connecting flights. I knew from experience that on the other side we had to reclaim our baggage and pass through another check point where we would turn in our declaration forms and then recheck our luggage before once again going through security before we could actually enter the airport.
It was a trying experience. It was nothing like going through customs to get into Cuba on my first mission trip. There were armed military personnel all throughout the Havana airport. In Minneapolis it was merely a slow methodical process. As we approached the yellow line which represented actually being back on United States soil, I looked up to the agent who was once again grilling those who came to his window. Across from him was another agent who was working much more efficiently. The gentleman who was in front of us unfortunately was ushered by the slow agent to come to his window allowing Taylor and I to be freed up to go the window of the faster agent.
When we were summoned we presented our passports and declaration form. He asked where we had been and what the purpose of our trip had been. I told him we were coming back from Saskatoon where we had been on a mission trip. I will never forget his next words. “Welcome home.” Two simple words that meant a great deal to me. We were home in our native country, the land of the free and the home of the brave.
We didn’t actually get home back in Paradise for another seven hours but crossing that yellow line and walking past his window, I felt I was home. I was in my native land. Our team was back in America. We were once again walking on the soil of the United States.
It felt great to come back home. Since coming home we enjoyed a family birthday celebration at “Babe’s” restaurant with Brenda’s family. Yesterday we celebrated Independence Day around a swimming pool, with great friends from our journey group, ate great American food and watched fireworks for over an hour. It is great to be back home. Today I stood in the familiar pulpit of the First Baptist Church in downtown Paradise and preached from the Proverbs. It is good to be home.
This all got me to thinking. I am citizens of two countries. Yes, I am a citizen of the United States of America. I am also a spiritual citizen of the Kingdom of God and a forgiven and redeemed man who swears allegiance to Jesus Christ the Lamb of God. One day after the trials, adventures, and the ministries of this life come to an end I will be in a different customs line, only this time God Himself will be the customs agent. People will pass under His scrutinizing eye and our passports will be nothing less than a personal salvation experience in Jesus Christ. When we face God and present our passports our names will be looked for in the book of life. If we have not come to God on the merits of Jesus Christ and His mercy there will be no entrance into Heaven but banishment to experience the fury of wrath for eternity.
I can only contemplate the sweet sound the saved will hear as God says, “Welcome home.” We were created for another world. All around people are dying and some are being welcomed into their eternal home while others are being banished into an eternity of suffering and torment. Death comes for us all. Just this week a former sex symbol died of cancer, the “King of Pop” died of cardiac arrest, while a former NFL Quarterback was found shot to death. When death comes for you and me and we wait to go through the customs of eternity I hope you will be able to present the passport of a personal testimony of a salvation experience with Jesus Christ. He alone is the doorway to Heaven. [Jn 14:6] He alone has the authority to welcome us home.
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