Okay... Now, no one go and have a cow, ok? Just stay calm and think about this first. I just wanted, no, needed, to explain how I feel about this. (And after reading this you'll see why I've never been the most popular kid on the block. Er hem.)
Yesterday, Father's Day, various of my dear Facebook friends and relatives wrote that they missed their dads who now live in Heaven and days like Father's Day, they said, were painful. Hard to get through.
I just don't get that.
Call me weird or unfeeling, but I just don't understand torturing yourself on days of remembrance, including anniversaries of loved ones' deaths.
What did I do on Father's Day? I pictured my Dad walking around Heaven with a gang of his pastor friends and his parents and his sister's family, too. I could practically see the wonder still in their eyes at the whole glorious place, even though they've lived there awhile.
Everyone was happy. Everyone sang and looked around at the lights and buildings and praised God then sang and looked around at the lights and buildings and praised God some more.
The group stopped for really, really great coffee. They sat outside of a heavenly bistro in the Sonshine and laughed and felt inward surges of gratitude swell to their throats. Then after their coffee and positive, uplifting conversation they all rose up from the tables and went in search of a new heavenly adventure. What to do now? A mountain walk? A swim in the River of Life? A stroll through a neighborhood yet unvisited?
Well, by then I felt so excited for the whole gang, that I began to get impatient about zooming to Heaven, myself, so I had to stop the daydreaming. It was all too good. Too enticing.
But what I certainly did not do on Father's Day? I did not wish my dad back here to this sorry planet. Uh, no. Let's face it... people in Heaven do not want to come back here to us (sorry, but they don't) and I think it requires a certain humility along with maturity to admit that to ourselves. Their desire is that we let God comfort our hearts and that we be with them in Heaven, but only after we've lived a full, obedient, pleasing-to-God life here, first.
And instead, I would propose that we just be glad down to our very toes that our loved ones in Heaven are experiencing incredible, unspeakable, unimaginably glorious times with others gone before us. And more importantly--that our hearts sing because they're with the One who died so we could all have an amazing, unfathomable Life, forever. And forever after that. One look at Him--one moment within the total unleashing of His presence--and who would want to come back here? Well, no one, so I will spend no time wishing anybody back. Not any resident of Heaven, not even for a minute.
Why let my heart be troubled? Instead, I will choose to be thankful to my very bones that I have Emmanuel, 'God with us', helping me live in joy here upon this imperfect planet, infusing me with a glorious anticipation of a whole new Life to come while I wait, while I work, and while I get to know Him better this side of Heaven.
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.” ... John 14:1-4