home home.

[5 minutes]

Headed home from the hospital after an 8-day stay. All praise to Jesus! So many miracles happened! As God does.

Now Hagar represents Mount Sinai in Arabia and corresponds to the present Jerusalem, for she is in slavery with her children. But the Jerusalem above is free, and she is our mother.
Galatians 4:25-26, CSB

If you visit Jerusalem today, you will see a people who are the spiritual offspring of Hagar — born of the flesh, after the flesh. The Lord loves them and longs for them to open their eyes (2 Cor 3:14-15), but for now, they choose to wander the spiritual wasteland of blindness and deafness.

BUT THERE IS A HEAVENLY JERUSALEM (v26). That City will one day supplant the present one. It is spiritual and heavenly, populated by people who know and are known by the Lord Jesus Christ — whose names are written in heaven (Heb 12:23). Saved Jews and Gentiles. Every tribe and tongue. Righteous people, made perfect by the sacrifice of the Lamb, worshipping their King in reverence and awe.

the jerusalem above

Followers of Jesus Christ are looking for that City (Heb 11:16), not at all satisfied with this one. We are ascending — up, up, up — climbing ever upward until the day we top that final hill and behold the City of God spread out before our eyes: shining and beautiful, surrounded by a myriad of angels, all dressed out for the festival of the ages.

It took valleys and deserts to cross to get here (Psa 84:6), but there she is — a multi-faceted jewel, the eternal dwelling place of God our Father and Jesus our Brother. The Holy Spirit is its everlasting Light.

When we fix our eyes and affections on this “Jerusalem” instead, we forget that we have been set free and saved for another Country altogether. We turn to graven images and works of the flesh, practicing an artificial religion that promises some attachment to the heavenly — but all it does is detach us from our True Country.

We soon realize that lifeless religion, empty rituals, and sad attempts at tower-building are futile. So we settle. We reach for shiny things on the ground — in the dirt, in the mud — and pretend we are happy. But the heart is deceitful and wicked, and no amount of playing in the dirt will appease our empty souls.

Weren’t we once “children of promise” (v28)? Why are we in the pig sty rooting around for corn cobs when my Father’s House has fatted calves and wide open spaces? Why am I wearing a yoke of slavery when I’m meant for a robe of righteousness (Gal 5:1)? Why am I severing myself from Christ (Gal 5:4) when I’m supposed to be dancing in the House of God (Gal 5:13)?

When did I stop ascending and start descending? I was making progress. Who bewitched me (Gal 3:1)?

There is good news. In the present Jerusalem is a holy spot where the Christ of Glory became the Lamb of sacrifice. He was slain upon a Jerusalem tree by a Jerusalem mob, but was raised to life inside a Jerusalem tomb. He then ascended to the Heavenly Jerusalem and told us He is preparing a place for us.

Don’t forget your true homeland. The present “Jerusalem” is not your home. You are commanded to come out of it (Rev 18:4) and set your sights on the City whose builder and maker is God. Look away to the heavens, Child of God — there is nothing for you here. Your help comes from heaven (Psa 121:1-2). Your birth certificate is in heaven. The census of heaven has your name on it.

C. S. Lewis wrote in The Weight of Glory: “We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

He’s promised us a holiday at the sea. Pack your bags and get hoofing! The journey ahead won’t always be pleasant — at times it will be fraught with scaries and peril — but it is the only journey worth taking. Soon we’ll crest the last rise, and there She will be: the heavenly Jerusalem, spread out wide and wonderful, all dressed up for our arrival.

Just think of stepping on shore
and finding it heaven;
of touching a hand and finding it God’s;
of breathing new air and finding it celestial;
of waking up in Glory and finding it Home.
— “Finally Home,” Don Wyrtzen

taking it home

The hospital doctor came into my room this morning with good news: “I think I can confidently say that you are going home today.” It’s been a comedy of errors getting discharged, but as God does, He has a reason for everything. I’ve enjoyed my time with the doctors, nurses, and techs who have graciously cared for me. I’ve tried to shine Christ to each one — three asked for a copy of my book! — learning all their names and blessing each. For me, hospitalizations have become second business. First business is living Jesus in front of people who face death every day.

I came in with the onset of sepsis and infection spreading through my body. Multiple blood clots in my lower legs were also discovered — hello, Eliquis — contributing to my issues. The bottom line: I have been unwell since October. But I feel I’ve been gone over with a fine-tooth comb, and wherever problems surfaced, they have been addressed, one by one. I am so thankful for the hope of better health. And now I get to go home. Not home home. But home.

Home home is the one on my radar. This lower Jerusalem, for all its hardships and unpleasantries, has also afforded me quick gulps of Glory and glimpses of the land of our inheritance — if you squint hard enough.

On earth as it is in heaven…

Soon, Shahd will be here for my bed bath. Sandy will arrive and get me dressed and ready for the short trip home. Not home home. But for now, just home is good enough.

Selah, beloved.

go home

[5 minutes, 852 words]

A friend passed away unexpectedly this week. I say unexpectedly, but, in reality, Frank had been in a long battle with cancer. Cancer may think it won, but, in the end, Frank did. Frank is free from pain, from endless treatments, from uncertainty, from death.

I only heard about his passing last night as I sat with the men of my Thursday night Bible group. The announcement from our leader caught me like a sucker punch to the gut. Try as I might through worship, I couldn’t focus. Frank had often led our worship before he got sick, and kept with it through much of his sickness. Frank was eighty-two, hard of hearing, and often lost his place in the songs, but we could easily give him grace; Frank loved Jesus more than anything. He also loved the old hymns and many of us old Baptists appreciated his playlist.

Earlier yesterday, before I knew of Frank’s promotion, I was reading from the Gospel of Matthew, chapter nine.

“But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins” — then he told the paralytic, “Get up, take your stretcher, and go home.”
So he got up and went home.
Matthew 9:6-7

“Get up, Frank. Go home.”

So he did.

My friend had been looking grayer and he’d been losing a lot of weight lately, but none of us thought it was time. My last conversation with Frank was to ask him to pray for me to be able to drink my coffee straight. He said he would. He asked me to pray for him to find some kind of special heat-resistant tape for a computer machine he was building. Mundane stuff. Coffee creamer and computers.

Then he was gone.

His last text to me was two weeks ago:

My dear Bro. Scott, trusting you are feeling better with a successful outcome. Will continue in prayer for complete healing. Your Bro. Frank

I’ve been sick myself lately, but nothing like Frank. I have a gall bladder that has to come out, kidney stones that need blasting, a fluid collection near my spine that needs draining and assessing, and osteomyelitis that needs treating. I only mention these things because Frank was really burdened for me.

I know. I’m thinking it too. A dying man, sad for his sick friend.

I confess that the original idea behind this post wasn’t about Frank; it was about me. More pointedly, how I heard that scripture yesterday morning. It actually happened to Frank, though.

“Get up, Frank. Time to go home.”

I still don’t know what time he departed this mortal coil, but I think it’s pretty cool to imagine it may have been around the time I was writing these words in my Bible notes:

1/28/26
This familiar scripture hits a new way this morning: it is my “Rise in the New Day, Scott, and go Home…because it’s time.”
Lord, I reach out my hands in faith to you.
Command it, dear Jesus. Just as you commanded the sickness to leave the centurion’s servant¹ and commanded the wind and the waves to stop². How I long to hear these words. May it be soon. In Jesus name.

Instead, my buddy Frank got the call. That’s okay; my day will come. I’ll just miss turning around and seeing a sweet-natured, smiling Frank in his Sunday spot two rows behind Sandy and me. I’m going to miss how he would light up about what supplements are helping him and all the scientific breakthroughs in cancer research he’d been reading about.

One last thing. Frank and I shared a lively discussion on a recent Sunday about how the joys of heaven will be “compounded” throughout eternity. Frank was intrigued. Any conversation about heaven interested him to no end.

“I’d like to know more about that idea, Scott,” he said. “This discussion fascinates me.”

He asked especially for scripture to help him understand it even more. I shared a few with him on the spot³ with the promise to add more that week.

I texted Frank back on the following Tuesday with a longer exposition, and included a quote I had read that put the entire idea of the exponential increase of heaven’s joys into a beautifully poetic image that Frank and I could see.

“Like waves incessantly crashing on the shore, one upon another, so the ages of eternity future will, in endless succession, echo the celebration of sinners saved by grace, all to the glory of God. There will not be in heaven a one-time momentary display of God’s goodness, but an everlasting, ever-increasing infusion and impartation of divine kindness that intensifies with every passing moment.” (Sam Storms)⁴

Well, Frank, is it so? Is it like that so far? I think Frank might say something like, “Oh, Scott, you have no idea.” One of these days I will get to, but for now I wait in hope for my time when the Master will say,

“Get up, Scott. Go home.”

And I will.

Selah, beloved.

Matthew 8:13 ↩︎
Matthew 8:26 ↩︎
Eph. 2:7; 3:16-20; Rom. 11:33; 1 Peter 1:4 ↩︎
www.desiringgod.org/messages/joys-eternal-increase-edwards-on-the-beauty-of-heaven ↩︎

black and blue

[900 words, 5 minutes]

One of my former parishioners, a longtime friend, contacted me about some books I left behind in our former church’s library and asked if I might be interested in receiving them back. One of them looks like a Father’s Day gift from Graham, he said. Of course I wanted it!

Seven-year-old Graham thought his dear old dad could use a book of devotional readings geared for men. Although I read many of its 365 entries in 1997, I never finished it. I thought it might be a good idea — in honor of my son’s wishes — to plow through its 400-plus pages again.

Its daily readings feature a selection of writings from various respected Christian authors and ministers. Some are unfamiliar to me but others I know all too well.

Here’s the thing. I built up a good head of steam reading the daily selections, feeling nourished by some insights I found therein, but one day I hit on one that stopped me cold. The writer was recognizable to me as a man who had just filled the headlines with substantiated charges of adultery. I decided to skip that day.

A few days later, another blighted pastor was featured. I skipped that one too. Two days hence, yet another disgraced man of God. Three fallen preachers in one week, in a book designed ‘for men seeking integrity.’ The irony was crushing. I mean, What are we even doing here?

These discoveries forced a question: What testimony am I building? I’ve catalogued a great many blog posts, spiritual essays, and sermons through the forty years I’ve been preaching. Do I want someone to come across something I’ve written twenty or thirty years from now and have them say, “no thanks, I’ll skip this guy”?

I’m privileged to be a part of a rotation of teachers for our church’s Thursday night men’s discipleship gathering. Each of the last two weeks I shared from Paul’s final words to Timothy.

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

2 Timothy 4:7

It’s telling that I haven’t spent my time condemning those men who failed, but instead I’m taking stock of my own testimony. Lord knows I still have things the Spirit is working to redeem, and while I certainly have my share of disappointments and failures, I’m grateful to have the public testimony of a preserved faith. I’m holding on to that like a precious treasure.

A proverb reminds us to “Guard your heart above all else, for it is the source of life” (Prov 4:23, CSB). If the citadel is taken by the enemy, the whole town has to surrender. If the enemy overtakes our spiritual loves and affections, our entire testimony will collapse into rubble. People won’t remember our glory days; they’ll only recall how we fell on our swords.

It’s a fight to remain faithful. It doesn’t come naturally nor does it come passively. Paul’s last recorded words are solemnly directed at a pastor to get serious about death and judgment, the faithful proclamation of the scriptures, and faithful attendance to his own testimony. All else is prelude.

Prisoner Paul then makes a bold admission. He says “I’m ready, Timothy. I’ve been a lifelong warrior and I’m going out on my feet! I’ve done all that God commanded me to do. I’ve finished the race, gutting it out to the very last mile.”

There were a lot of battles and bruises that preceded such a declaration. In one harrowing passage, Paul recounted all the bloody miles of his marathon that led up to his finish line. Fought the good fight, indeed.

And then I remembered another fight the apostle had: with himself.

I run the race then with determination. I am no shadow-boxer, I really fight! I am my body’s sternest master, for fear that when I have preached to others I should myself be disqualified.

1 Corinthians 9:26-27 (JBP)

As if the world, the flesh, the devil, and religion aren’t enemy enough, we’ve got to face off with the man in the mirror every day of our lives. We’ve got to box ourselves, beat ourselves black and blue (the Greek in verse 27 means to bruise your eye), and train ourselves in godliness.

Paul said his hardest opponent was Paul. Alexander did him much harm, but Paul needed to be brought to the mat. Demas forsook him, but Paul needed to go all Rocky on himself. Hymanaeus had to be turned over, but Paul needed a black eye. The Corinthians were a source of endless consternation, but Paul stood toe-to-toe with himself every day of his life.

One of the great things about coming to the finish line — for me — will be to finally be done with this world, the devil, and myself. I get so tired of me. But if the word of God is true – and it is – it’s a good fight, a noble fight, a necessary fight.

If Scott Mitchell doesn’t want his testimony to be ‘skipped over’ some day, he’s going to have to daily go toe-to-toe with himself in the ring and punch himself in the nose, not box the air.

Winning takes training and discipline. It takes black eyes and bruised faces and broken noses to be able to say, “I’ve fought the good fight.”

That’s how I want to go out: black and blue and…ready like Paul.

Selah, beloved.