Fine With Dreaming

Here's the thing a pastor friend of mine told me the other day when we were talking about some of the issues I was dealing with in my life in terms of my own sin and problems friends were having: "You know, Jason," he said, "some people say that if you're thinking about Heaven all the time you're living in a dream world. What I think is that if you're not thinking about Heaven, you're living in a dream world. People who don't long for Heaven are people who don't deal with sin in this world."

I think that's a pretty good perspective. How can you not walk through this life, experience the pain and frustration of a fallen world, and not long for the place you were made for to begin with where you've been promised complete peace, joy, and rest. No more pain, no more frustration, everything just as it should be. If you go back and look at some of the old hymns, you notice that many of them have a line, usually the last one, referring to Heaven, longing for Christ's return. I think they might have gotten it a little more than we do. Maybe they weren't as self-assured as I am. Maybe they didn't love this earth as much as I can at times. They echoed John's sentiment at the end of Revelation, "Amen, come Lord Jesus, come."

There's No Place Like Home

Last night I was watching "American Idol," and the theme was "Inspirational Songs." Overall they weren't very good, but one of the contests sang Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's version of "Over the Rainbow." When I first heard it, I didn't think too much about it, but as the night went on, I found myself singing that song over and over again. I was feeling pretty sad and very much alone last night (actually I've been feeling like that for a few weeks now), and at first the song grabbed me just as the cry of a heart longing for escape -- something I was definitely identifying with. But, the more I listened to the words playing over and over in my head, the more I finally realized, that it's a great song about Heaven. I mean, think about some of the lines, "There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby. . . And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true. . . Where troubles melt like lemon drops. . ." I mean, sure sounds like Heaven to me. All the hope, all the joy, and all the things we've been hearing about and dreaming about, finally realized. And the best part about it is, no Wicked Witches of the West (or munckins for that matter!).

Here's the thing I've been learning a lot about recently: I am not made for this earth. I have been made for another place. The earth can be at times familiar, even comfortable, but it's not ultimately the place where my soul will find peace. Sometimes this is obvious, sometimes not. For me, it's been very obvious recently, and the more I struggle with emotions, people, and sin, the more and more I find myself, much like Dorothy, standing in the gray dreariness of this flat, dull farmland, yearning for the technicolor wonder of some far-off, distant place where "there isn't any trouble."

"Do you suppose there really is such a place, Toto?" You betcha.