Before leaving for the World Race, my sweet mama wrote me notes to open at the beginning of my time in each country. She included a challenge; “on the back, write a word or lesson that God showed you this month.” For my October in India, that word was HEAVEN. When I was little, my parents asked me what I thought heaven would be like, and I said “I’d be able to have as many oreos as I want.” Although I still share that sentiment, I think there’s something even better in store. Man oh man, I am so excited about it. I wish that I could tell you in person, but hopefully I’ll be able to articulate it well enough to help you understand.
This month was nothing short of a blessing. We had delicious food, built incredible friendships with our ministry hosts and liaisons, and had SO much fun with the students from the local seminary. We had opportunities to serve at medical camps, help with church construction, pray for people, and SO many other things. We were spoiled in ways I can’t even hope to expect to happen again on the race. One day in particular, God started revealing what I now consider to be my theme for the last month. After we had driven an hour in an ambulance, served at a medical camp, spent time talking to the school master about the state of the church in his little corner of India, then sang and played with around 300 children for hours, we asked our hosts if we could climb up a nearby hill to see the view of the lake on the other side. They graciously offered to have someone guide us, and sent a man named Joy. That’s right, his actual name was Joy. He didn’t speak a single word of English, but the old man beckoned to us and led us through grasses taller than we were and thick brambles to the top. It was absolutely gorgeous. If you know me, you know that this sort of spontaneous adventure makes my heart sing. I felt a special connection with this man, who so zealously and considerately put up with all of us taking photos, trying to communicate with him, and clumsily making our way through the jungle. We were so jazzed. On the top we all screamed “FREEDOM!” and he joined us.
On the way home, surrounded by my teammates and another team who we’ve grown close to, we listened to blue grass music. It was golden hour, so the sun made the landscape look even more beautiful than it had looked on the drive in. We were headed back to a night of worship with our squad. Basically, my life felt perfect. I expressed to my team that I wished I could put that feeling in a bottle so I could access it whenever I wanted to. Then after sitting for a while, I changed my mind. “Actually, I’ve decided this is what heaven will be. The ability to access these moments again, feel the fullness of joy which they hold, and never have to stop taking it in. I will get to see Joy again, along with all of the friends we’ve made here, and there will be no language barrier. We will be perfectly united, and celebrate the wonderful times we’ve shared together. Wow, that will be so wonderful.” I told my parents about it in a phone call that night, and my mom said “not only that, we’ll get to see the entirety of God’s plan for our lives, and how those moments made up a small piece of that.”
The next day, I was invited to attend classes at the local seminary. Sitting in on a class, I mentioned to my classmates my idea of heaven, and that I couldn’t wait to see them again, “here, there, or in the air.” (India, Colorado, or heaven.) When the professor came in, it turned out he was speaking on the idea of local vs. universal church, and the ways we would all interact in heaven. He said “someday we will have a wonderful surprise waiting for us in heaven. We will surely say “Sister Rah-chel! We remember seeing you in our class!” This trend continued. Everywhere I went, every ministry I participated in, I was farewells consisted of “sister! What a joy it was to meet you. I so look forward to meeting you in heaven.”
One evening at a TCS (Trinity College and Seminary) worship night, I was asked to share my testimony. I got up in front of these students from more than 20 different states and countries and shared the way I felt God had put the perfect puzzle pieces together to get me where I was in that moment. In front of all these men I’d never met before, I cried. I was so overwhelmed by the hope that I have in what is next for us. Even when circumstances get hard in this life (or we have to continuously leave friendships after just one month of friendship) we have an incredible hope ahead. It doesn’t look like riches or personal glory. It looks like perfect community with the Father and His incredible children. I can’t wait to see each of them again. I can’t wait for Heaven.
