Conversing just now with a dear servant of the church, I remarked that he must be somewhere about seventy-five. He replied, "I am eighty-two."

"That," I replied, "is a good old age."

"Yes," said he, "it is." Then he cheerfully nodded his head and added, "We shall get Home; WE SHALL GET HOME!"

And so we shall, brothers; so we shall, sisters. In chorus we will take up our brother’s word and say, "We shall get Home."

"We shall get Home." There is music in that simple sentence—a soft melody, as of the evening bell. Early in life its sound may be more stirring and trumpet-like, nerving our youth to energy and making us cry, "Excelsior"; but as our years increase and the sun descends, its note is sweet and soothing. We love to listen to it in our quiet moods, for each word has a silvery tone—"We shall get Home; WE SHALL GET HOME!"

This is our great comfort: however long the way, we shall get Home. We may live to be eighty-two, or even ninety-nine; but we shall get Home in due time. We must not doubt that blessed truth, for the Lord has taught us to sing in the song of Moses His servant, "Thou shalt bring them in, and plant them in the mountain of thine inheritance."

The way may be rough for the Christian, but it is the King’s Highway, and no brigands can drag us off it: we shall by this road get Home to the Father’s own house above.

Some of us are not nearing threescore years as yet, and perhaps we have many long leagues to traverse, but we who are saved shall get Home—glory be to God!

His love has fixed the happy day
When the last tears will wet our eyes,
And God shall wipe those dews away,
And fill us with divine surprise,
To be at Home, and see His face,
And feel His infinite embrace. One reason why I feel sure that we shall get Home is this: We are found in the road which leads there. This is a great wonder—in fact, a greater wonder than our getting Home will be.

When we were far astray, with our backs to the Father’s house, fond of riotous living, the Lord in His infinite mercy convicted us. We then trusted Him, and He set our feet upon the way of life. This is a miracle of grace, and I never tire thinking of it. Because of all that it includes, I feel quite at ease about getting Home.

"For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by his life." The love which plucked us out of the fire will assuredly keep us from falling back into it. God does not begin a work without intending to finish it.

Besides, we have already come far on the road; therefore, we shall get Home. Considering our many temptations and trials and the evil of our nature, we are bound to praise the Lord with our whole hearts because we who are saved have been preserved unto this day.

Our life in the future can hardly be more full of miracle than the past has been: why should we suppose that the Lord will stay His hand? Nothing but omnipotent grace could have brought us thus far, and that grace is quite sufficient to preserve us through all the rest of the way.

We shall get Home; for "the Lord hath been mindful of us: he will bless us." Even in the hour of death, fear shall not overshadow us.

You know how quaintly John Mason puts it—

I have a God that changeth not:
Why should I be perplexed?
My God, that owns me in this world,
Will own me in the next.
Go fearless then, my soul, with God
Into another room:
Thou who hast walked with Him here,
Go, see thy God at Home. I am persuaded Christians shall get Home because oftentimes we receive messages from the Father Himself, and these love words assure us that He remembers us; and if He remembers us, He will not let us perish.

Moreover, we receive substantial help from Him, and He comforts by the way both by day and by night. If He meant to cast the saved off at last, He would not so often have cheered our spirits by His gracious visits and love tokens on the road.

As the land birds which light upon the rigging of his vessel assure the voyager that he is nearing the shore, which as yet he sees not, so heavenly blessings without number flying to our succor tell us that the Gloryland is nigh. We shall soon cast anchor in the fair havens.

We shall get Home, for other Christians have done so who were once at our side traveling the same path. We asked them, as they departed from us, how they hoped to reach their journey’s end; and they told us that all their hope rested upon sovereign grace. What less or what more do we rest in? That grace which has secured to them a safe journey will secure the like to us; why should it not?

It is true that we do not deserve it, nor did they: it was to them a matter of grace, as it certainly will be to us. But that grace is true and constant. All who sail with Jesus are saved from the yawning deep. Yes, even though it should be on boards and broken pieces of the ship, we shall get safe to land!

We shall get Home; for oh, if we do not, what a lament there will be in Heaven!

Think of that. If the children of God do not come Home, what mourning for the lost ones will be heard in the mansions above. Neither God nor good men could see the divine family broken and yet be happy.

Every angel in Heaven would feel a disappointment if one child of God were absent at the reading of the muster roll. Did they not once rejoice over each one of us as a sinner repenting? Their sympathetic mirth was premature in our cases if we were to perish by the way.

But angels are not doomed to find their hopes frustrated; neither will the great Father find that He Himself was glad too soon. Heaven would be a desolate place if at its banquets some David’s seat were empty! We cannot endure to imagine some member of the sacred family missing, lost forever, cast into Hell! It will not be, for in that land of absolute perfectness there is

No missing heir, no harp that lies unstrung,
No vacant place those hallowed halls among. We shall get Home, for the great Father Himself will never rest until we do. He who bought us with His precious blood will never be satisfied till all His redeemed shall stand around Him girt in their snow-white robes.

If we had been on pilgrimage with our families and had reached home ourselves, then missed a dear child, what a stir there would have been! To every father I ask, Would you sleep with a child lost? Would you not tramp back every step of the road to seek your dear stray lamb? You would cry everywhere, "Saw ye him whom my soul loveth?"

Well can I imagine our Good Shepherd using the same words concerning any one of us if we did not get Home, and asking everywhere, "Saw ye him whom My soul loveth?" He would not rest until He had found His chosen, His heart’s delight.

Did He rest the first time till He brought us Home on His shoulders rejoicing? Would He rest a second time till He had folded us in Glory? No! He can never have full joy in His heart until all His ransomed are in the place where the many mansions be.

"We shall get Home." Brothers, we shall get Home. I am sure we shall; and what a joy it will be! Think of the bliss of seeing our Father, our Home, our Saviour, and all those who are dear to us for Jesus’ sake!

A venerable sister who saw me very busy the other day remarked that we shall have plenty of time to talk to each other in eternity. I do not quite see how there can be time where time shall be no more; but no doubt there will be space and opportunity for the fullest communion with each other and for much fellowship of united delight in the adorable Person of our blessed Lord. I anticipate much felicity from fellowship with perfect saints above, since I have had so much pleasure in the society of imperfect saints below.

Many have gone Home from us of late, and we are all getting older. But let us not regret that since the Home above is being filled, a perfect society is being formed which will last forever.

I remember a remark made by my dear friend John Edwards before he left us for the Fatherland above. I said to him one day, "Our brother So-and-so has gone Home."

He replied, "Where else should he go?"

Just so, when evening draws nigh, home is the fit place for each of us, so we instinctively turn to it. We think badly of people who do not care to go home when their work is done. Some workmen make long hours and stay late at work, but nobody envies them on that account. Most persons think the sooner they are home, the better.

Do not you think so? Do not you long for the Home-going? It is best to have no impatience about it, but to fill up the whole day with holy service, then consider going Home as the crown of it all. Even this poor world can be made very homelike if we have the true childlike spirit.

"Where is your home?" asked one of a little girl. The reply was, "My home is where Mother is." Even so, Home to the saved is where Jesus is; and if He wills us to tarry out of Heaven for awhile, we will feel at home in the desert in His sweet company.

Here, however, comes in a word of caution: It will be wise to ask ourselves, Where is our home? Somebody said, "It is well to go home, if we have a good home to go to." That point is worthy of deep thought.

Every creature goes to its own place: the fox to its hole, the bird to its nest, the lion to its den, and man to his home.

The saved will rise to be with Jesus. As for the ungodly, where will they go? Where must they go? You may judge of their place by their choice.

What are their pleasures—vanity, sin, self? There are none of these things in Heaven. If they have found their pleasure in the ways of Satan, there shall they find their endless portion.

We may judge men by their company. Like will turn to like. What sort of company do you prefer? The man who sings the drunkard’s song, the man who pours forth loose talk, is he your companion and friend? Then you shall be gathered to him and to such as he, in the assembly of the dead.

I remember a good woman saying to me on her dying bed, "I am sure the Lord will not cause me to live forever with the ungodly and the profane, for I have never loved such society. I think He will let me be in my own company."

"Yes, that He will, if you have trusted Him as your Saviour," I replied.

If you, friend, are numbered amongst the ungodly, you must have your portion far off from God. The ungodly cannot find a home among the saved, the sanctified.

You who are unsaved, I pray you think over those words of the psalmist: "If I make my bed in hell…." And what a bed! But as you make it, you will have to lie upon it.

O my beloved, do not one of you run the risk of such a doom. We have loved each other here; let us not be divided. Let us go together along the way Home. Together let us follow Jesus; then we shall all get Home to the same Father’s house.

My joy, my crown, my second heaven shall be to meet you all there in that sweet, sweet Home where danger shall be ended, where sorrow shall be banished, and where sin shall be excluded. Our Father will receive us, our elder Brother will joy in us, the Spirit of God will be glad over us, and all the rest of the redeemed by His blood will welcome us.

Do not our souls joyfully anticipate that grandest of all family gatherings? Is it not a jubilee to our hearts to think of the general assembly and church of the firstborn, whose names are written in Heaven?

"We shall get Home;

WE SHALL GET HOME!"