But not once, not even one time, did she stop the car at the sign and say, “We’re here.”

Because the sign wasn’t home. The sign just said: you’re getting close to home.

That’s a good picture of where we find ourselves this Fourth of July. We’re celebrating a signpost. And a signpost is worth celebrating — as long as we don’t mistake it for the city.

A signpost worth celebrating

Let’s be clear about something. The nation we live in is a genuine blessing — not just for those of us who live in it, but for the whole world. Are we perfect? Not even close. Have we done heinous things in our history? You betcha. But God has also used this country as a blessing to others, and there are real gifts here worth naming plainly.

We’re governed by consent, not by a throne. No king owns us. No bloodline rules us.

We can worship unforced. Nobody woke you up this morning and made you come to church. We can gather any time we want, stand up, and sing praises to God — and nobody can stop us. That’s liberty. And that same liberty means we can’t force anyone to trust Christ, either; faith has to be freely given, or it isn’t faith.

This has historically been a sending nation, too. People like Adoniram Judson — who packed his family’s belongings in coffins to sail overseas — and Lottie Moon and a whole host of others carried the gospel to the ends of the earth. Because somebody here had the freedom to go, there are people all around the world today who trust Christ.

So we ought to be the most thankful people on earth. Missionaries who’ve served overseas have told me they weep walking down an American grocery aisle, overwhelmed by how much we have. Truthfully, we ought to be grateful for something as small as a box of cereal. These are all gifts. Every one of them.

The temptation of every generation

Here’s the danger. It’s the temptation of every generation: to pull the car over at the sign and say, “We’ve arrived.”

The church has done it again and again all through history — we’ve arrived, we’ve arrived, we’ve arrived. And friends, I’m just telling you: we haven’t arrived. Things aren’t perfect. Only Jesus is going to bring the peace that passes understanding. Only Jesus is going to make all things just. And that won’t happen in this world — it happens when He comes and recreates the next one.

That’s exactly what Hebrews 11 is about. Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Jacob — they all died in faith without receiving the promises, “having seen them and welcomed them from a distance, and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth” (Hebrews 11:13). When Abraham died, all he actually owned of the Promised Land was a grave for his wife. And yet he kept looking forward, because he understood the grave was only a signpost of the city that was coming.

So we must not confuse the signpost for the city.

The country that’s actually coming

The city that’s coming has a better King — Jesus, King of kings and Lord of lords, before whom every knee will bow. It’s a better country, where the curse is lifted and creation is fruitful again. It’s a better citizenship — nobody can vote you off, nobody checks your passport, and the only thing that matters is that you belong to Jesus. And it comes with a better inheritance: everything that belongs to the King belongs to those who are His.

Here’s what I want you to hold onto this week. No politician — blue or red — no preacher, no billionaire, is going to bring you what only Jesus can bring. Every politician who’s ever lived has broken promises. Ask yourself: is there any leader who’s kept every promise they ever made?

Jesus has.

So celebrate the blessing God has given us here in America. Thank the Lord for it. Enjoy the freedoms while we have them. But be salt and light — not for a better America, but for the promise that’s coming. (And by the way: if we’re salt and light, America will get better. It’s just not our purpose.)

Our purpose is that we’re longing for the country we’ve been promised. A better one. A heavenly one. “Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them” (Hebrews 11:16).

If you’ve never trusted Christ, you don’t have to fix your life first, and you don’t have to wait. Recognize that you’ve sinned against a holy God, and that Jesus died in your place and rose again — guaranteeing that whoever calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. You can leave today belonging to Him.

We’re celebrating the signpost. But we’re not home yet.