I imagine sitting by a fireplace, years and years from now. I look down and see my frail body, wrinkles folding over my face and hands. It will be one of those powerful moments; the feeling of intense nostalgia combined perfectly with overwhelming gratitude. Memories will flood into my heart, maybe even memories I had forgotten existed. Memories of the miracles, memories of the tragedies. Memories that used to bring such shame are simply a reminder of the mercy of the morning. Memories of confusion are now filled with the victory that is the Truth. I will be reminded of the places I’ve been, the people I’ve seen, known, and loved.
My heart will break once more as I relive their brokenness. The disease, the poverty; these destitute people will forever be embedded in my soul. And surely I’ll be reminded of the brokenness that always seemed nearer rather than farther, the brokenness of people so poor that all they had was money. Surely they lived the American Dream, they climbed that ladder of success just like they were told. In the hearts of these people there was nothing of greater value than comfort, security, and safety. Hopefully I will watch these people learn the beauty of eternity that God has planted inside the hearts of those who forsake those seemingly precious values. Maybe they will learn that even they are called to live as a member of God’s reverse economy; that though it seem crazy, truth lies in the fact that is more blessed to give than to receive. And that, in order to abound in this blessing, we are might be called to sacrifice these financial securities, these physical comforts, these familial safeties.
And then maybe I’ll see a light spark in their eye. Maybe I’ll see a burden lifted because our treasures actually lie in heaven. Maybe I’ll see a passion, with all it’s childlike hopes and dreams, be aroused. And then, through a power much greater than us, that vision will come to life. And more lights will spark. And more burdens will be lifted. And more passions will be aroused and come bolting to life. And all these world changers, at the end of their days, wake up to the promised sunrise. They pour themselves a hot cup of coffee, and slowly but surely make their way over to the chair by the fireplace. As they sit, absolutely spent, regret holds no place and fear was abandoned years ago along with whatever hope was offered alongside the wide road. We close our eyes. Though our bodies are weak, our hope does not lay within ourselves. We are filled, as we have been many times before, with that peace that transcends all understanding. We would be perfectly content if our eyes never opened again. And maybe it’s our imaginations or maybe it’s real, but we see something. It’s a bit meager looking, but we keep our eyes fixed. We see a little gate, and maybe, we think, maybe it’s the gate He was talking about.
This is good news, my friends.
