lifeasmission

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  wildflower said...

  1

  This is a humbling thought! At the same time, to think that God will have things the way He wants them is comforting to me as well. For example, when I am choosing selflessness, generosity, sacrifice, patience, and love there is always an inner peace and joy that follows from living in a way that pleases him and also recognizing that it is in those times I feel closest to Him and His heart for others. So, while this thought is great in helping change my perspective of heaven- (which I believe is a spiritually healthy perspective and commend you for this) I believe at the same time, no matter what He asks of us this life or next- it would only be good and good for us if it is good for Him. Love the picture – is that even real? 

  09/16/08 4:39 PM | Comment Link

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  JoeyG said...

  2

  Great thought JR.  I hope my desires change to His.

  09/17/08 9:23 PM | Comment Link

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  Dad G said...

  3

  Here is a story of Heaven. Not a theological essay; it is more of a feeling, or mood piece, of what awaits believers…

  A Little Jog in Heaven

  By Stephen P. Garrington

  The edges were, and are, fuzzy. He couldn’t seem to remember some details, but the first thing that he did remember was looking down at the path at his feet. It was red-brown and sort of dusty and smooth. He could see the path’s winding trail leading off to a group of small, low, rolling hills in the distance. For some reason his mind could never picture the sky. It was as if it was cloudy but bright at the same time. No, it was more like there wasn’t any sky to be remembered. As clear as he could see that path and those hills, he could never recall seeing any sky. But the hills, the grass, the dirt path; they were so real. They were more than real. Yet he was never able to explain, or draw, or put into words their beauty or their wonder. For a long time he stood there without moving, just looking at the scene, almost reveling in it, until he heard the voice.

  “Ready for a run, Steve?”

  He turned to his right and looked at the embodiment of the voice. He started to say something but paused with his mouth open. The young man’s face was familiar, like he had seen it a hundred times before, but no name came to mind. Still, he knew this man. He knew that face, those eyes, and that smile.

  “Here ya’ go.” And the man tossed him a pair of running shoes.

  Steve caught the shoes and looked down at them. They were beautiful. For a moment he just held them and ran his hands over the woven laces and felt the bumps of the bright red and gold stripes. Then, as he knelt to put them on, he noticed his knees. The shoes fell to the earth and very tenderly, he ran his hands over his knees. There were no scars. The long red scars of knee replacements and orthopedic surgery had disappeared.

  “They’re gone,” the young man said. His words and his voice had the overtones of a deep smile, like someone who is trying to hide a joke. “You have no scars anymore. Your knees are fine. Let’s run.”

  Steve doubled knotted the laces and looked up to see his companion already twenty paces ahead. With a bolt of energy he was tearing up the path until they were side by side and stride for stride. It was wonderful. The path was soft and forgiving and the dust made little puffs like tiny clouds on either side of their shoes as they hit the pathway. The breeze filled their faces. The ground almost seemed to push them on. Steve felt he could run forever.

  Up ahead he saw the split-rail fence, and almost without thinking turned on the speed and sprinted toward it. His companion had seemed to sense the plan, or maybe Steve had voiced his idea, for they were still running together. At exactly the same moment they leaped and cleared the wooden fence and landed, still running, on the soft grass. What a wonder and what bliss. He could even smell the broken grass beneath his feet. His whole body and every sense, was reveling in the experience. He was laughing out loud. It was almost like… almost like…well…

  Like a car that has used up its fuel, Steve slowed down and stopped; on his face the smile slowly gave way to a questioning expression. His running buddy came to a stop next to him. Again Steve looked into that face. This time he looked beyond the eyes and nose and smile, and tried to see the essence of his companion. But the young man’s smile became just a bit bigger.

  Steve lowered his eyes and looked at the grass at his feet. He licked his lips and for a long moment looked at his legs and shoes. “Am I…, Am I in heaven?”

  He couldn’t see it, but somehow Steve knew that his friend’s face broadened into a huge grin. “Is this the place where I am supposed to say, ‘No, this is Iowa?’”

  Steve almost laughed and then began to raise his eyes. Both hands, without his conscious direction, reached up and covered his mouth, and then tentatively he lifted his gaze into the face of his friend. The smile had softened but had not faded. “I am in heaven. This is heaven. And so… that makes you…” The sentence was left incomplete. Steve fell with his face to the ground. “Oh, Jesus, my Lord and my God.”

  Strong, kind, tender hands were on his shoulders. “You can get up now.”

  “My Lord, I am not worthy to get up. I am not worthy to face you. I am not worthy for anything.” A thousand bad memories had flooded his mind and the happiness had been instantly replaced by an all consuming combination of shame and fear. But he felt a hand move from his shoulder to his chin and lift his face so that he was again looking into the same eyes that had once looked down from a cross.

  “No, you are not worthy, but neither was Abraham, or James and John, or Billy Graham. No one is worthy – not one. But you loved me. You sought me. You obeyed me. You had a passion to do my will instead of your own. And when you made me your savior, I made you worthy.” The eyes burned deep within Steve who found that his fear and shame were being overcome with the glorious feeling of hope.

  Together they rose to their feet. The hope was quickly being replaced with yet another emotion: joy. “Oh, Jesus…” The words were muffled Steve buried his face into Jesus’ shoulder, wrapped his arms around his master and began to cry tears of joy. It may have lasted a moment or perhaps a year. But the tears gave way to laughter and the joy gave way to love.

  Jesus took his thumb and wiped away the trail of tears that had plowed its way down Steve’s cheek. “Welcome home.” Steve’s eyes lifted and he noticed that on Jesus’ face there the soft wet streak of a similar trail. They hugged again and then faced each other with hands holding the other’s shoulders. “Do you want to sit down for a while? There is a log over there.” Jesus pointed to a large fallen tree only a few feet away.

  They sat, while Steve tried to wrap his mind around eternity. Jesus waited patiently for the question that was coming.

  “Jesus?” A thousand questions had entered his mind, but there was one thing, more than all the others that he wanted to know. “Jesus, it has been so long… It has been so many years since… Well anyway… Well, I was wondering if… if my…”

  Jesus turned and pointed to a low hill. “Your dad is waiting for you just over that hill. And there are a lot of other folks waiting to see you as well. Your grandfather is over there; the one you never met. And I believe that Paul of Tarsus is waiting to explain a question about a verse in Romans that has troubled you for some time. So, what would you like to do first?”

  Steve looked around, first at the hill where a glorious homecoming awaited, then the countryside and finally at the face of Jesus. He wondered why he had not recognized the son of God at first glance. “Well, if you have the time, I would like to finish our jog.”

  “I created time,” said Jesus. “Let’s run.”

  02/21/12 11:00 AM | Comment Link

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  jrrozko said...

  4

  Good piece, enjoyed it thanks.

  02/21/12 11:12 AM | Comment Link