Dignitaries lined the street when the funeral procession passed. Thousands waited just to catch a glimpse of the coffin. In fact, the people of the United States and all parts of the world loved and revered the deceased man so much that his remains were disinterred in Tripoli and brought to the United States for a magnificent funeral.
His name was John Howard Payne. You probably haven’t heard of him. But his well-loved poet was best known for composing one simple verse:
“‘Mid pleasures and places, though oft I may roam, Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.”
There’s no place like home. And the good news for the believer is that he isn’t home yet. This world is full of struggles, illness, and pain. But remember, we aren’t home yet.
So the next time you complain about life’s problems, remember that it gets better. God said, “I know the plans I have for you – plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11). And the greatest hope of all is . . . there’s no place like home.