I have occasion pretty regularly to drive out to the area where Dale and I lived on our last acreage for 13 years. I drive by our church of 18 years and the road that leads down to the acreage. My “job” as accompanist for the middle and high school choirs in that area means I’m a frequent visitor. I’ve been serving in this musical role for nearly 15 years – 6 from this acreage and 9 from our current home in the Des Moines area.
So, I was completely caught off guard recently when I was overwhelmed by emotions as I glanced down the road where Dale and I last lived. Not simply resided, but enjoyed some of the very best years of our 35+ years together.
I had such a powerful feeling of longing as I thought about all that we experienced there together, that it literally brought me to tears as I was driving past our road. Wasn’t expecting THAT! More on that in a moment.
I’m not shy about telling people how much I long for Heaven. Not in a take-my-own-life way, but in legitimate anticipation of all that’s ahead in Paradise. This is so much a part of who I am now that I’ve had more than one person ask me, “Do you have a death wish?” To which I always enthusiastically reply, “No, but I have a Heaven wish!”
I make no apologies for that because I can’t begin to imagine the splendor of reuniting with Dale, my parents, numerous friends and relatives, my pets (!), and most importantly, with Jesus. And no more pain and sorrow and…sin! Why wouldn’t I long for that?
But as I thought about all the joy I experienced with Dale on that acreage and how heartsick I felt over the fact that I would never again live that life, this phrase hit me – I’m living a life of longing.
And I immediately felt a level of guilt because it came with a sense of not being satisfied with my current life status. I was longing over my past, and I was longing for my future. Not living life in the moment and wholeheartedly following what God still wants me to accomplish in this life.
Then, of course the theology analyst in me stepped in to see what spiritual truths I could glean from this whole idea of a life of longing.
I don’t think we need to reach very far into scripture to have evidence that a longing for Heaven is definitely a good thing. The Apostle Paul famously, and simply, said this in Philippians 1:21 – “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”
Amen! I don’t have to be convinced that entry into Heaven will be more glorious than anything I’ve experienced here on earth – and beyond my wildest imagination.
So what about the longing for what’s in our past? Can any good come from that? As a widow who was married to an amazing man, it’s way too tempting to relive all those times to the point of discouragement. There is NO benefit in that.
I try, instead, to reflect occasionally on those beautiful times and then be immensely grateful that God blessed us with them. Use them to bring a smile to my heart, but don’t dwell on them so long as to see my current life as meaningless.
I also believe that our past, whether it be blessed or full of heartbreak or likely a combination of both, serves to point us forward to the perfection that awaits us as believers. Our greatest joy from this life pales in comparison to what’s ahead. And a life of abuse or loss or heartache can make the longing for Heaven even deeper.
We truly are sojourners in this world. Leaving a trail of memories, good and bad, as we come closer to our final reward. Until then, I take us back to that earlier quote. “To live is Christ.” That’s how we are to spend our “present.” Living a life that is pleasing to God and is working in his Kingdom, however that looks in your life. And remember, God isn’t just at work in the mighty and magnificent, but also in the mundane and the minutiae.
This is my goal for living this life of longing: To be grateful for the blessings God bestowed on me so generously in my past, to use the hard times as reminders of what’s ahead and as a way for God to make me more like him. To live for him in my day-to-day. And to look with anticipation on the perfection that lies at the end of my earthly journey.
So we are always of good courage.
We know that while we are at home in the body
we are away from the Lord,
for we walk by faith, not by sight.
Yes, we are of good courage,
and we would rather be away from the body
and at home with the Lord.
2 Corinthians 5:6-8
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