“When I get to Heaven I’ll understand the pain
And I’ll hurt for those who have not come yet
But I won’t hurt the same” ~Steve Moakler, Holiday at Sea
These are some of my favorite lyrics in a song. I guess I love the idea that the “pain” we feel in heaven will be this all knowing kind of pain.
It’s that kind of pain I suspect Jesus must have felt when He told His disciples He was going away, that this was for the best, that his leaving was out of love for them. Jesus fully knew the next chapter and I can imagine the heartache he must have felt over seeing his disciples wrestle with confusion and doubt. Oh, My Child, you don’t understand…but one day you will!
It’s also that kind of ache a soul feels when it encounters something so beautiful that there are no words to describe it. That kind of ache when faith and hope become sight. When Paul’s encouragement in Philippians become a reality. The pressing on and the straining towards has ceased. (Philippians 3) It’s the kind of joyful, weight of glory, ache of knowing…really knowing...it wasn’t in vain. Your mind recalls all those seasons of doubt, all those seasons of walking through the fuzziness and just holding on…listening for the voice in the desert calling out to you, reassuring you… I am the way, the truth and the life….don’t give up…keep going.
I shared this thought years ago, but it came to mind again this morning….
When my mom died, I remember sitting in Pizza Hut with one of my brothers and my dad after we left the hospital. My dad insisted we grab a bite to eat since we hadn’t eaten all day. I can only recall one thing I said while sitting in the booth waiting for our pizza.
Dad, do you ever feel as if this life is just a dream and when we die it’s like we finally fully wake up?
I have no clue what my dad’s response was to me. I just know that, at the time, that was the overriding thought sweeping over me. This isn’t it. Life, real life, is so much bigger than this moment of pain.
Even today, I sometimes get that feeling. Dreams don’t always make sense to us and portions of them often seem incomplete and fuzzy. Life often leaves me scratching my head like a weird dream. When I was younger, that lack of understanding used to scare me. It used to have me running in fear. But now it doesn’t. Now it has me holding on tightly in faith. I cling to what I know to be true.
We see and we taste just a fraction of the life God has planned for us. One day, I will wake up fully. One day, I will understand completely.
We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!
But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love. 1 Corinthians 13: 12-13 Message