I always knew that while my parents might dislike what I had done, be disappointed in my actions, and hurt by my decisions they would still always love me and long to see me.
When I lived in Waynesboro, Tennessee I use to call home and let mother know that I was coming up to visit them in Jackson. Mother said that when she would tell dad that I was coming that he would go out on our porch at 246 South Lindsey Street, sit in the swing and wait for me to come home.
She would say ‘Pop you know how Ivan is; it might be three or four hours before he gets here. He might not leave on time and he might stop a dozen times. You don’t need to sit out here and wait on him.’ Dad would say ‘I know, but I would just like to be here when he turns off of Lexington on Lindsey; I would just like to see him coming down the street.’
She would often say ‘well you could have a lot done by the time he gets here.’ But he would just smile and say ‘but I would just like to see him turning down the street.’
When I would make the turn from Lexington onto Lindsey I would see him way down the street sitting on the porch at 246 South Lindsey, looking my way waiting for me to come home. I think Jesus must be that way about us, there in glory he looks down the long road of time and says, “Ivan’s coming home, and I’ll wait to greet him.”