Why is it so hard to remember heaven? Maybe…
…because my planner looks like Arabic that went through the blender.
…because the laundry never, ever stops.
…because the basement floor has a new, sticky black spot that no one caused.
…because someone shredded my fern for bathroom entertainment.
…because the bunnies are back just in time for our lettuce to grow.
…because my coffee is tepid and I really hate that.
…because I’m a lot more shallow than I like to admit and often happy to stay that way.
Why is it so hard to remember heaven? Maybe…
…because I can’t see it. Everything else is immediate and distracting. But “faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see.” (Hebrews 11:1) It’s no wonder the only way we can have faith is if God plops it in our lap like a birthday gift.
…because it’s also hard to remember Jesus dying on the cross, bleeding profusely as he drags His body weight up on the nails through His hands and feet so He can grab one more breath. My mind and heart don’t like to camp out at the foot of the cross. I don’t like little bitty cuts that need little bitty bandaids. Yet faith grows through a regular return to that bloody, nauseating scene.
…because the resurrection is so wonderful that it just doesn’t fit into my puny, here-and-now brain.
So I beg God for mercy. Help me have faith. Help me remember Jesus’ suffering. Help me remember that He is alive. Fill me with your Spirit.
When someone we love goes to heaven, it’s instantly real and memorable. But is there a way to live with that immediate awareness? How about on a moldy-basement, I’ve-run-into-the-wall-three-times-before-9am kind of a day?
Well, extreme heartache seems to be a pretty good cure. As we rally around the families in Texas in prayer, it moves us to remember heaven and what a wonderful hope we have. And when the horror of this time in their lives overwhelms us, we have another gift from God to help us.
Imagination.
What will heaven be like? Maybe…
…I won’t need the stinking planner. We’ll all just flow from one worthy activity to the next.
…there will be no dirty clothes, not EVER. Lots of dirt and adventure, but no sweat!
…there will be no mold! Remember “where moth and rust do not destroy”?! (Matthew 6:20)
…it won’t bother me if a sweet child shreds a fern. New ferns will grow.
…there will be a separate, eternal universe for all bunnies (low, maniacal chuckling).
…coffee will be the opiate of the past, and we will drink elixirs beyond imagining.
…families ripped apart on earth will be reunited in such happiness, it’ll be like they were never apart.
We will be transformed into the likeness of Christ – even me, a sorry excuse for a human being. We will praise Him forever and ever and ever and ever.
