Last night, we arrived safely back in Seattle after our trip to Banff. I lie in bed, unable to sleep, asking myself, “How can people question if there is a God, when we have evidence like this?”
None of us know for sure, what it will be like on the day when we finally see Him face to face, but sometimes I delight in trying to imagine it…knowing that no matter how far I let my imagination roam, He’s going to surprise me with how much greater He is.
I know that my most pure and deep longings come from Him and that I am bound by an earthly body that is incapable of all He will one day permit me to experience.
And when our day is ending and the adventures leave me spent, will He come and build a fire in the room that He’s prepared? Will I make a cup of hot chocolate and smile as He asks for extra cream? Would He really let me serve Him? Would I get to watch Him enjoy something my hands prepared?
Would we both sit by the fire, sipping warmth and talking long, of the next adventure we’d share together…all the things He’d like to show? Will He draw it out, knowing that expectancy is part of the joy, waiting and planning part of the gift? Would He remind me that we have eternity…and we’re going to fill it up?
Would I pull some crumpled papers, that I’d kept close to my skin, and place them in His hands–my toil, my praise, His greatest gift to me? Would I get to watch Him read them, watch a smile come cross His face–and know that I had pleased Him…Can you imagine the joy of pleasing Him?
As He tucks me in to covers, lays His hand upon my cheek, will I beg Him for a story? His side of one moment in my life–when He was orchestrating beauty that I could not see. Or a moment He shared with David, that the Scriptures didn’t record. Or what it felt like to speak to Moses from inside that burning bush.