What Heaven will be like

                I have a friend I love to visit. Every once in a while, I’ll drop my son off at school and then go spend the day with her. We have loads of fun. Because her husband is in the military, she has moved all over the world, but we’ve always seemed to find each other again. Sometimes it would be years in-between conversations, but somehow we would find a phone number and then pick up right where we left off.

                My friend and I have been through a lot together. When we first met we were both newlyweds living in a foreign country, so you can imagine the fun we had and trouble we got into. We experienced our first pregnancies together, and all the joys that follow; the swollen bellies, the insatiable cravings (one time she and I ate an entire pumpkin pie-at one sitting), and breast feeding (there’s a funny story there, but for modesty sake I won’t tell it).  We’ve also shared some sadness. Tears will sometimes act as binding agent, solidifying the relationship.

                Now, because of where her husband is stationed, and because of God’s goodness, my friend lives closer to me than she ever has before. We laugh, talk about our husbands (laugh some more), compare the health of our aging parents, talk about our teenage daughters, watch silly youtube videos, discuss God’s portrayal in The Lord of the Rings, drink coffee, plan future camping adventures, and basically have fun. Oh, and we always eat. The last time I was with her she fed me venison and beaver.       There’s only one problem I have when I go to her house; it’s time. I don’t understand it, but it seems like I’m only at her house for a few minutes and then it’s time for me to leave. I’ll look at the clock and it will tell me that I have been with her for five hours, but I can’t believe it. How in the world can time fly so fast? It must be because even when we are being serious, or even quiet, we are still having loads of fun.

                I said all that to say, I believe Heaven’s going to be like that. I think we’ll see old friends we haven’t seen in years, and we’ll pick up just where we left off. I think we’ll laugh with joy we never thought possible. We won’t ever cry, but the eating will go on forever (I have no doubt there will be pumpkin pie in Heaven). I think we’ll be so content, so happy, that time will disappear. I think we’ll be there years and it will have felt like a whisper.  I can’t wait!

                We may have difficulties here on Earth, we may have some pain and heartache, but we also have a hope. God uses the good times, the peaceful times, the exciting times, the really really fun times, to give us a glimpse into our future. We don’t have the mental capacity to take it all in, so He shows us bits and pieces. Eternity with Him will be an afternoon spent with our best friend, with no clock on the wall. And that makes what we’re going through down here seem almost trivial, and certainly worth it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, The Lord of the Rings is coming on and I’ve got to call my friend.

                  

Late

I hate showing up late; to anything. I like to arrive early and relaxed so I can get a good seat, mingle, or simply give the impression that I have everything under control. Unfortunately, that rarely happens. I am late far more often than I care to be, but I usually have a great excuse. It’s not because I have slept late or I have forgotten the appointment (that only happened once), but because I am a mommy. Let me explain.  I am late because my two-year-old doesn’t understand the word hurry. I’m late because he doesn’t understand that we don’t wear the dress shoes with play clothes. I’m late because we can’t find the match to the shoe he is wearing. I’m late because he says “Me do” and I let him try, knowing full well that he doesn’t have the dexterity to put the button through the hole.  I’m late because even though I am already dressed, I have to change clothes because while my son was eating he wanted a hug, and the process of giving him one, I got some of his cereal on by blouse. I’m late because I remember that there are no wipes in the diaper bag. I’m late because I remember we will be out longer, so the diaper bag must have a drink, snacks, and toys. I’m late because I’m trying to find quiet toys. I’m late because I fear people will pass out in disgust if they see me without makeup, so I go apply some on. I am late because I can’t find the match to the shoe I’m wearing. It was in the closet the day before, but then again, so was my two-year-old playing with them. There’s no telling where it is so I change shoes completely.   I’m late because as we start to head out the door I breathe in and become aware that my son has pooped his pants.  I lay him down and grab the diaper bag. I remove the toys, juice, snacks (which my son wants because he has seen them), and wipes only to discover that there were no diapers in there.  I’m glad the poopy happened in my living room. I’m late because as I’m on the floor of the living room I see my lost shoe under the couch, so I change shoes again.   I’m late because while trying to keep the snacks away I remember that I never ate breakfast, so I have to rush to the kitchen and make me a peanut butter sandwich to take with me.  I’m late because on the way out to the van my son falls and scrapes his hand.  The recovery process requires a kiss from me but because my hands are full with a purse (which does not match the second outfit I have on), diaper bag, and keys, there is a sandwich in my mouth, so a kiss is not possible.  I’m late because there are four steps to strap my son in his car seat and he wants to “Me do” every one of them. I am late because even though we have arrived at our destination, there are four steps to unstrap my son from his seat and, well, you get the picture.

                So if you’re ever someplace and you see me come in late with peanut butter around my mouth, a purse that looks ridiculous with what I’m wearing, holding a child who’s holding his hurt hand, and carrying an unzipped diaper bag, please don’t judge my tardiness. Just come up and hug me. I’ll need it.