Looking forward to that day
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Let me premise this post by saying this: I am firmly planted here on earth for the rest of this life, and I'm not going to waste the time I have here. Looking forward to heaven isn't an excuse to ignore or neglect my earthly realities or yours.
Now that I've given that disclaimer, I can move on to what I want to write about: how I love and long for heaven.
Better than this.
So much better.
I would be more comfortable if I didn't break my foot a few weeks ago. If I didn't have rheumatoid arthritis or autoimmune thyroid disease or peripheral neuropathy. If most of my meds weren't failing to their intended jobs. If I didn't injure my knee today.
(All of which, by the way, are why the blog was a bit quiet last week and might be a bit quiet in the next week or two. Well, that as well as this thing called a thesis that I am ridiculously behind schedule with.)
I would be more comfortable if all those things were true, but it would be just like the miners in Chile getting comfy in the mine. They weren't meant to stay there. It was their home for a while, but it wasn't meant to last forever.
And as I aim to please God in this broken body, this cracked jar of earthen clay, I am encouraged that a day will come when complete healing and wholeness will be the eternal reality.
What makes you long for heaven?
Now that I've given that disclaimer, I can move on to what I want to write about: how I love and long for heaven.
Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. Now it is God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.(2 Corinthians 5:1-5)I love it and long for it for more reasons than I'm including here, but there's one that's been standing out to me lately. In heaven, we get new bodies.
So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body. And just as we have borne the likeness of the earthly man, so shall we bear the likeness of the man from heaven. (1 Corinthians 15:42-44, 49)I can't wait until the day that I get to shed this body. To be honest, it hasn't served me all that well. I shouldn't expect it to, though; it wasn't made to last. I don't know what it will be like to bear the likeness of Christ, but I know one word that will describe it: better.
Better than this.
So much better.
So I will always remind you of these things, even though you know them and are firmly established in the truth you now have. I think it is right to refresh your memory as long as I live in the tent of this body, because I know that I will soon put it aside, as our Lord Jesus Christ has made clear to me. (2 Peter 1:12-14)I love the word used here in Greek: skenoma. It's the same word used in Acts 7:46 to describe the temple built by Solomon. It is translated in some places as "earthly dwelling," "tent," "tabernacle," and "body." It has a purpose. It's inhabited by God. It's an earthly temple for Him. As such, we should care for it, and be wise with the time we have in it.
Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. We live by faith, not by sight. We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord. (2 Corinthians 5:6-8)But it's not meant to be a forever place. It's not meant to be comfortable. I am thankful that my body is not perfect or whole or disease-free because it would be easy to be at home in it if it were.
I would be more comfortable if I didn't break my foot a few weeks ago. If I didn't have rheumatoid arthritis or autoimmune thyroid disease or peripheral neuropathy. If most of my meds weren't failing to their intended jobs. If I didn't injure my knee today.
(All of which, by the way, are why the blog was a bit quiet last week and might be a bit quiet in the next week or two. Well, that as well as this thing called a thesis that I am ridiculously behind schedule with.)
I would be more comfortable if all those things were true, but it would be just like the miners in Chile getting comfy in the mine. They weren't meant to stay there. It was their home for a while, but it wasn't meant to last forever.
So we make it our goal to please him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it. For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad. (2 Corinthians 5:9-10)This brings me full circle to what I started my post with: I aim to please Him in this body until it is time to cast off this earthly tent. I may be in pain, but I will rest in Him. And - as God commended the church in Ephesus for persevering and not growing weary (Revelation 2:3) - I grow tired but it's an awesome God thing that I don't grow weary. I'm not strong, but God is, and I clothe myself in His perfect strength that allows me to cast off my burdens in exchange for the lighter, more restful load (Matthew 11:28-30).
And as I aim to please God in this broken body, this cracked jar of earthen clay, I am encouraged that a day will come when complete healing and wholeness will be the eternal reality.
What makes you long for heaven?