The theme of this blog is that this world is not our true home, but our home is in heaven, where our hearts long to be. I once received the lyrics to an old song from my dear friend, J.D. McCormick that was written by Albert Brumley in 1937 that explain this thought to some degree. And it goes a little something like this - hit it!
"This world is not my home, I'm just a passing through, My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue; The angels beckon me from heaven's open door, And I can't feel at home in this world anymore."
"Just up in gloryland we'll live eternally, The saints on every hand are shouting victory, Their songs of sweetest praise drift back from heaven's shore, And I just can't feel at home in this world anymore."
"O Lord, you know I have no friend like you, If heaven's not my home, then Lord what will I do? The angels beckon me from heaven's open door, and I can't feel at home in this world anymore."
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