There never seems to be enough time. There are friends to see and family to connect with, shows to watch and games to play, more stories to read that I could ever get around to. That’s one of the things I look forward to about heaven: time enough to do all those things, to see every work of art, hear every piece of music, meet every Christian and hear all their stories. I’d also like to see all the half-forgotten dreams that so frustrate me as they slip through my fingers.
Admittedly, no one really knows what heaven will be like, but that’s how I imagine it: an eternity of time with extraordinary people, my family, the presence of our Creator, our Savior, and worship. Oh, the worship.
When I was little I got the impression (or maybe there’s a verse) that we’ll worship forever in heaven. Which makes sense (our God will be right there with us after all. How could we not?), but at the time that sounded quite boring.
Not anymore. I mean, it’s never really enough here on Earth: the art, the words, the music, it’s just never enough to fully express our emotions, our longings, our worship (haven’t you ever been in the middle of a worship song and your heart and spirit are so full of hope or joy or longing that you think you might burst and you just can’t sing loud enough, strong enough, sweet enough to get it out?). In heaven it will be (or so I imagine). We’ll sing with the angels and purge every ache of emotion in worship, whether that’s audible or visual or both.
My imagination tends to have a hay day with ideas like that, dreaming of what I hope heaven will be. I dream of having all the time in eternity, of being whole and safe in our Creator’s arms, of meeting the one who gave so much to save us, of being with my mom again and all the others that have gone before. I dream of no misunderstandings, no distance between hearts, no sorrow or loss or doubt ever again. I dream of joy and peace and a forever just loving and being loved.
The amazing thing? Somehow it’s still going to be so much more than I ever dreamed.
