This is something I wrote a couple of years ago and felt it would be appropriate to resurrect in light of beginning a new year of Wednesday night care groups.
It's Wednesday night, and I'm in my Chevy Cavalier cruising down Highway 86 with windows down and music up. My eyes keep drifting away from the road to the beautiful sunset on my left. Through the speakers come the words of one of my favorite Rich Mullins' songs, "there's more that rises in the morning than the sun, and more that shines in the night than just the moon..." In the deep vibrations of the song, eternity is calling.
I am a traveler and my journey has taken me to the Proctor's house for Bible study. I enter the red, barn-like house and am greeted with open arms and warm smiles. The smell wafting from the kitchen draws me in where I fill a cup with cold lemonade and pile warm cookies onto a napkin. In the invitation to draw further up and further in, I hear eternity calling.
Carrying my newly acquired snacks, I make my way back into the living room and nestle down in the couch. After a brief time of fellowship, our evening officially commences with the singing of hymns. We flip through the well-worn pages and sing as Mark plays the guitar. I hear the faint echo of voices long past. Together our voices converge and I am ushered out of time; eternity is calling.
The singing ends, we put up our hymnals, and pick up our Bibles. Opening to 1 Corinthians, we divide up the number of verses equally and read aloud one chapter, "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." Oh how I both fear and long to be known fully! Eternity is calling.
It is now time for prayer. With heads bowed and eyes closed we see clearly the suffering of the world. We pray for sick people, hurting people, and those in prison. We, ourselves, are sick, hurting and imprisoned. We ache for deliverance. The individual prayer requests are enveloped by the silent cry of our souls, "Come Lord Jesus, come!" Eternity is calling.
My departure looms menacingly in my mind as I notice the clock. But I stick around, hoping to sip every ounce of the sweetness from this evening. The conversation moves to casual. We talk about sports, music and entertainment. Everyday things; Sacred things. But now the time has come to leave, so reluctantly I rise to my feet and say my goodbyes. In the longing to stay and the impulse to go, eternity is calling.
I open the door, and walk toward my car. On the way, my eyes gravitate upward where I see the stars blanketing the night sky; little beacons of light in the darkness. A tear trickles down my cheek, and I remember the words to the Rich Mullins' song, "If I weep, let it be as a man who is longing for his home." It seems so far away, yet it is so near.
I can hear it, can you? Eternity is calling.