Stream of Consciousness/Musings of Eternity/Joy

Writing Territories

Uselessness

Time

Matthew 22:37

Macroeconomics

Inequity

Meeting MLK

Bandanas

SCUBA

Seashell/Sleeping Bear

Patience

I spend a lot of time wondering what Heaven will be like.  I’m a planner.  I like to dream.  I like to guess what’ll happen, but only if the event’s super far away and I don’t have a risk of disappointment. 

Sometimes I imagine God as a farmer.  I see him cultivating the land, that’s us, and watching very carefully and giving us fertilizer when we need it but letting it storm on us without covering us up because He knows we really need the water.  And I see Him begging—begging us to grow even though sometimes we don’t want to reach up out of that soil so sometimes the weeds pull us under and the farmer greaves for that because we were the very special turnip he was saving for his little girl.

And I think that my farmer-God wouldn’t worry about all this money stuff, even if I only think that because I don’t think our lives should be based off of something that doesn’t even tangibly exist, because he gets that you don’t actually need that money stuff that you just need people to be nice enough to you to give you the stuff you need and then you can go have a merry ole time—an even merrier time that if you tried to buy it. 

I don’t think there will be any clocks in Heaven.  I really don’t think time’ll exist at all, because honestly, what does it matter if you’re five minutes late when you’re doing what you’re really supposed to be doing.  I feel like time only matters to us because our lives are so unfocused that we can’t even pay attention to when we should be eating.  Sleeping.  Getting up.  Doing work.  Resting.  But if we really got quiet, then we could hear that, just off of the beating of our heart and the groans of our joints and the sighs of our lungs.

And I think that right after I meet my God/Jesus/Holy Spirit in Heaven, I’m going to run to Dr. MLK just as fast as I can because I’ve got a lot of things that I want to say to him but because more than anything I just want to see that he really did exist and courage of that caliber can actually reside in a human being and then acknowledge that it wasn’t his courage at all but the courage of God/Jesus/Holy Spirit.

And then I’ll spend all that timeless eternity smiling until the tears run down my face because I have that courage, too.