I have exactly fifty minutes to write this post. I’m sitting at starbucks, listening to music choices diverse enough to keep anyone in their seat for at least fifteen minutes. They’re always changing it up; keeping you waiting to see if the next song is better or worse than the last.
All of a sudden, September disappeared. I have no idea how that happened. Seriously no clue. We’re anticipating a dramatic fall and winter, with plenty of interesting things for our family on the horizon. Also, we are painting our house turquoise and getting all the funny looks that come along with an announcement like that. Since most people here are dyed-in-the-wool northwesterners, any exterior house color outside of the blue/gray family is usually met with mild surprise and polite comments about how interesting it could be. Fortunately for us, our house is quickly approaching that auspicious age of being one century, one decade, one year, one month, and one day old, and being an old house, it can get away with stuff younger houses can’t. Just like people I suppose. Who knows, we haven’t officially bought the paint yet, so I could post pictures next week and show ya’ll a gray house.
We’re going to a funeral on saturday. Another one. I’ll have been to three too many funerals this year. I feel like I’ve been to a lot of funerals in general for not being quite thirty; super young and super old people and everything in between. The funny thing is, I feel like no matter the age or circumstances of the person who has died, at least someone feels like they died too soon. Too young, too early, too much life left to live. And sometimes it really does feel that way. Sometimes when someone dies, the most striking shock of it all is that you feel like they were really just on the cusp of something great. Like it was some crazy mistake for them to leave right when they were ramping up into the best years of their life, or at least some really great ones.
This time last year, three people I knew had no indication that was going to be their last fall. No one did. Not even the tiniest indication. When someone so full of life leaves, it begs the question “Why?” The only conclusion I can draw from this is that there is so much life left to live after our life on earth is over. I don’t say this merely as a comfort in a confusing world, but as a reflection of who I believe God to be. One thing I know for certain of God is that He is consistent. His unique sameness doesn’t just span yesterday, today, and forever, but also the principles of His nature and the creation with His divine stamp of likeness.
I believe Heaven is a new beginning. I believe it’s a continuation of our us-ness with a whole new drastic perspective on life. It would appear to me that God doesn’t create us so full of dreams and hopes only to squelch them out right when we leave our earthly lives behind. It would seem consistent with His nature for those hopes and dreams to take on a whole new radiance of meaning in the light of eternity in his presence.
I literally have no idea what Heaven is like, but I do have a tiny idea of what God is like. I expect someday I’ll realize I knew only one glint off of one facet of His nature, but it is enough for me be to be assured of my role in His eternity. In knowing only a little of Him, I am certain that life really begins when we think it ends. Our faint attempts to live and love and dream, will one day know their realness.
Here’s something I wrote a while ago that’s been cycling through my mind lately.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
“rubbing sleep out of bleary eyes…
frustrated with squinting.
wishing for more than just clouds in the skies,
and hoping for more than just hinting.
now i see in the mirror but dimly…
then i shall see face to face;
now i know Him only partly,
but at the end of a long and arduous race
I will know Him as He knows me…fully”