It's the day after. The wedding, a day that was as perfect as one could hope, is history. Today was spent, as is often the case, with family members who have traveled from out of town to celebrate the festivities. The morning started in the hotel lobby grabbing a bite to eat with my aunt and uncle who were in from Ohio. After a few hours of cleanup, it was off to Starbucks and then lunch (we did have some left over chicken!) with my husband's family. Then it was time to pack it up and return home. I grabbed a quick nap and we headed to a nearby campground to visit my two sisters and the plethora of cousins.
How do you really spend any quality time when there are that many people you care about? Fifteen minutes is barely enough to hear an older niece talk about her new master's program, a sister about her son's girlfriend, another sister about her daughter's newest child. And that's just the news. To try and get a glimpse into another person's heart is nearly impossible.
Often people ask me what I think heaven will be like. Nearly as often they're not sure they like the concept of "eternity." It seems too long. Won't I get bored? I can't imagine what I'll do...they say, with a worried look.
But as I ponder the impossibility of connecting meaningfully with just a few of the people I care about, I imagine that the life we talk about when we describe "heaven" might be best described as life without limits. For starters, what happens when just the limit of time is taken out of the equation? So what if it takes you 500 years to learn to play an instrument? What if you never feel rushed to end a conversation? What if it will really be there tomorrow? What if an opportunity is never truly missed?
So much of what we do is limited, bounded by physicality, age, linear time. One of my daughter's friends posted this comment on her facebook wall: "Cloning and teleportation would come in handy right about now. :-/ I'm so sorry I'm not going to be there today, but I'm so happy for you both."
I don't know if the second earth (I like to call it E.2) will incorporate teleporting, but I can imagine that walking on water and passing through solid walls (things Jesus seemed to find easy to accomplish) will not be uncommon.
Life without limits. More life, more ways, more options. I think I'll need all the time I can get and then some.
How do you really spend any quality time when there are that many people you care about? Fifteen minutes is barely enough to hear an older niece talk about her new master's program, a sister about her son's girlfriend, another sister about her daughter's newest child. And that's just the news. To try and get a glimpse into another person's heart is nearly impossible.
Often people ask me what I think heaven will be like. Nearly as often they're not sure they like the concept of "eternity." It seems too long. Won't I get bored? I can't imagine what I'll do...they say, with a worried look.
But as I ponder the impossibility of connecting meaningfully with just a few of the people I care about, I imagine that the life we talk about when we describe "heaven" might be best described as life without limits. For starters, what happens when just the limit of time is taken out of the equation? So what if it takes you 500 years to learn to play an instrument? What if you never feel rushed to end a conversation? What if it will really be there tomorrow? What if an opportunity is never truly missed?
So much of what we do is limited, bounded by physicality, age, linear time. One of my daughter's friends posted this comment on her facebook wall: "Cloning and teleportation would come in handy right about now. :-/ I'm so sorry I'm not going to be there today, but I'm so happy for you both."
I don't know if the second earth (I like to call it E.2) will incorporate teleporting, but I can imagine that walking on water and passing through solid walls (things Jesus seemed to find easy to accomplish) will not be uncommon.
Life without limits. More life, more ways, more options. I think I'll need all the time I can get and then some.
