“I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I’ve been looking for all my life though I never knew it till now…Come further up! Come further in!”
~CS Lewis, The Last Battle

Time is such a funny thing.

It’s fascinating because although measurable and conceptually familiar, it’s still somehow way beyond my scope of understanding.

I remember an elementary school teacher of mine who took us on a nature hike one day. Leading us to a roadside covered with bracken, switchgrass and tree branches, he had us sit and imagine what that very spot might have looked like a century before. We all had ideas…maybe an early pioneer family had camped there, maybe it was a gathering place for deer or foxes; perhaps someone had ridden his horse around the trees that had once grown there. Our third and fourth grade minds were far away from the reality of that Kansas morning hike, which of course was just where Mr. Margreiter wanted us. It was pretty neat to think that the only thing separating us from all this adventure was the passage of time.

I’ve been thinking of all of this in relation to eternity and heaven because my mom has been in the Eternal City for a year…at least according to my calendar.

It’s easy for me to describe what the past year has meant to me… I’ve worked and planted a garden and got rained out of a concert. I’ve watched sunsets across the Pacific, sat on the back deck with family and friends, ate some pretty darn good Italian food at a little bistro in Colorado Springs, and laughed until I could hardly breathe when listening to a voice mail from Sonya…all while acknowledging that little area of hurt that exists here because Mom doesn’t.

But, when I think about mom’s year?

Oh, my goodness.  I believe the differences are staggering and if she were somehow able to come sit with me and tell me about it, I still wouldn’t be able to understand.  My frame of reference would be far too small. She lives in eternity now and no matter how much I try and figure that out, I come up short.

I’m going to try and put some of what I think into words. I like to think these thoughts are part of all of us…our common lives and stories.

I think when Mom peeked around the gates of the Eternal City, all the sweet things she believed about Jesus were swallowed up in the even more precious reality of who He is. I think she is beginning the unimaginable process of knowing Him fully, which I have a feeling takes a long, long, long time and each discovery is more exquisite than the last.  It’s a good thing we have forever.

All the weaknesses and pettiness that she had (and each of us have them, too) were wiped away in an instant when she got there. Can you imagine the freedom? I sit here and think of the fear that so easily takes over, and the selfishness that I struggle with and the anger that wells up so quickly and I simply cannot imagine what it will be like not to have to carry all of that around with me ever again.

Everything makes sense for her now. Imagine for a second that you have the opportunity to look down on your entire life from a high vantage point. This view allows you a fresh, comprehensive perspective. All the little nuances of your life – all the emotions and thoughts and energies have color and texture which blend together to weave into the beautiful story that is attached to our souls. Sound far-fetched?

I think maybe it should.

It sounds far-fetched because we are far-fetched. Friends, we aren’t made for the temporal. Everything in us tells us there’s more to come.

Mike tells me to think of my life as a picture, and that each second is a pixel that makes up what will someday be the finished whole. What am I doing with this little piece I’m placing right here, right now? This is good for me because it’s a reminder to live deliberately.

I believe that when we get Over There…all the myriad experiences that have made up our lives to that point will be transformed. I used to wonder about the ugly parts of my life; the careless words, the times I’ve hurt people I love or been cruel or impatient or…oh, just fill in the blank. There’s enough nasty to go around, trust me.
But those things lose all power when we get there, I think. They only serve the purpose of throwing into stark relief all the good that He has been doing; all the times the golden threads of forgiveness and redemption have repeatedly been sown in and around and through my stubborn, misguided, longing heart.

And of course, THAT’S why what we do here matters so much…we are growing and developing our future selves so that when we find ourselves in the Kingdom, we’ll have two blessed things to do: First, we’ll have crowns to cast at His feet with joyous abandon. These crowns will be beautiful to us, of course, but I think even more beautiful to Him. Constructed of all the graces He’s helped us win, they will represent each and every time we chose whatever was pure, whatever was lovely, whatever was good.

And secondly, we’ll recognize a beginning capacity to truly live. Doesn’t that sound so hopeful? We’re alive here, but it’s life lived through a glass darkly. I don’t think we have an inkling of what LIFE looks like there. We will exist and create and think on a higher plane than anything we can comprehend now.

“Eyes have not seen, ears have not heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love him.”

Read that sentence from Corinthians over and over until the awe of it begins to settle in. It means all the beauty that you have ever felt, seen or imagined doesn’t even scratch the surface of what’s ahead.

I think of all the times I’ve asked “why?” We’ve all been there, haven’t we? All the times we’ve begged God to intervene and felt impatient or frustrated or even angry when He doesn’t? All of that will make sense. Those anguished words we have cried out to a seemingly silent universe will have an answer.

Every single one.

He hears.

And I believe when we get there, the settlement of those questions will occur before we even put thought to them. Doesn’t it make sense? If He is “tenderhearted to those who are afraid” while we are on earth, do you think for a moment that He won’t have anticipated all of our questions?

I’ve heard what I think are the answers to the problem of evil and hurt and tragedy, and the great theologians have put far wiser words than I have together to explain it all. But those answers are small comfort when I’m in the thick of it. When I’m in the middle of heart wrenching circumstances, I don’t want theology…that can come later. I want arms around me, telling me I’m understood and loved and cherished.

I believe that everything fell into place for Mom. It just fit. And I think knowledge will be instantaneous in that respect. I can picture her laughing a little sheepishly, with whatever the heavenly version of shrugging her shoulders is and saying “Oh! That’s what it all meant. How in the world did I miss that?” I imagine it’s sort of like when calculus finally makes sense.

Mom has seamless community with the people she loved on earth. Think of it! My amazing dad, beautiful Cheri, Pete and Jerry, and all the other lovely ones. The relationships that took baby-steps here on earth are growing by leaps and bounds there. Because of course our souls will continue to grow. The friendships and loves we’ve enjoyed here will continue there, but without all the messiness. We’ll be the bright version of ourselves, the one He always knew was in there; able to truly relate with other souls who have gone through the inexplicable process of redemption.

Few of us want to take what poets (erroneously, I think) call the “Long Journey” home. But whether or not we like to think about it, we all will. It’s a part of the kind destiny He set in motion when we were “beautifully and wonderfully made,” and He “knew the days ordained for us before even one of them came to pass.” We hold tight to our days here on earth, and that’s ok! We have work to do and people to love and so much to learn. But CS Lewis once said that the old saints thought often about eternity because it lends perspective to where we are right now. I like that!

Friends, time is a curious thing and we are a curious people. He made us that way, and so we fill our time on earth looking for ways to discover more. In both big and small ways, we should always be looking ahead. I think the constant push for knowledge is a good thing. We “press on” because just as the Eternal One called us into physical and temporal life, He is also constantly nudging us forward. He is coaxing us to follow the call that never ceases; the one always there because He has done the beautiful work of setting eternity in our hearts. He’s always just far enough ahead. Momma may have gotten there before us, but we’ll all catch up.

So, go ahead! Push the envelope! Cross the line of what’s known to you and keep pushing your line of discovery further and further out in front. He gave us the drive to want to know more because He knows that’s what lies ahead for us. Resist the urge to keep your view of heaven small; I think it’s going to be massive and ever expanding. This is God we’re talking about, after all. He isn’t confineable.

And this business of living on earth and under sky? It’s all just practice, you know.