Thursday, February 28, 2013

I Can Only Imagine

Heaven.
We talk about it.

Sights and sounds and smells and feelings and tastes.
We call them heavenly.
Husbands and babies and mamas and earth angels. We call them heaven sent.
A baby's velvet skin, my Mimi's nana puddin, waves crashing into the sandy shore, mountain sunsets, starry nights, a baby's scent, a friend's love, Sunday worship.
Heavenly.
 
But these aren't really heaven.
Yes, they are wonderful.
Maybe even glimpses of heaven that God gives us to show us that this life here is a mere fraction of heaven, of the home He has prepared for us.
I know what heaven means for me.
An eternity of worship.
Like the lyrics of "Amazing Grace" proclaim,
"When we've been there ten thousand years,
bright shining as the sun,
we've no less days to sing God's praise,
than when we first begun."
I know what heaven means for my precious friend's mama who went home to be with Jesus this week.
Her body no longer hurts from the cancer that overtook it so rapidly and so violently.
She's new and whole and cancer free and running and jumping and singing and praising her Creator.
Her Healer.
I know what heaven means for my sweet Nanmama.
She no longer suffers from Alzheimer's.
Her brain is new as new.
Her thoughts are whole and not jumbled.
She speaks with clarity and sings with the voice of an angel.
She is one of His most beautiful. With her white curls, and green eyes. And, I'm quite certain, there may still be specks of dirt under her fingernails from days spent tending to her Black Eyed Susans and prized Hydrangeas.
But what does heaven mean for Baker?
Someone said to me, that for Baker, heaven meant restoration.
That, in heaven, he would be made well.
I was taken aback by this.
Mainly, because I hadn't really considered it.
I don't think of Down Syndrome as a debilitating disease like cancer or Alzheimer's.
Yes, it is a physical and mental disability.
But, do I think God messed up on Baker?
That my little is not exactly who he was created to be?
That he isn't whole?
Not even for a fraction of a second.
And this little boy, while not perfect in the eyes of the world, is most assuredly perfect in the eyes of his Creator, and his mama who loves him oh so much.
Will God accept my child, His child, into heaven just as he is?
Or will he be transformed into someone else?
Someone with a different body?
Different features?
Different abilities?
Will his almond eyes lose their shape?
Will his cuddliness, almost smooshiness, that is a result of hypotonia, go away?
Will he stand erect, or have the lean that molds his body to mine?
Here's what I think.
I think I am a human, with a very finite, human brain.
I think heaven is something I can only see through earthly eyes.
I cannot fathom eternity as the Bible describes.
I think when we enter the gates of heaven, our earthly bodies are transformed into bodies that are designed to worship our Savior.
Bodies that can sing and dance and rejoice for all of forever.
So, while his almond eyes, and squishy body, and little lean I have come to crave, are things I adore, they are not things that are necessary for worship.
I would love to know your thoughts on this.
I would love even more if your thoughts were accompanied by Scripture.
I would love even more if you would pray that Brian and I are raising a son that will spend eternity in our forever home, heaven.
I can only imagine.

5 comments:

  1. Hello my fellow mother and daughter of Christ. There is this book I read call Down right good. Such a awesome book. It made me cry. Yet it made me so happy at the same time. I don't want to ruin the read for you so I would love to talk about it after you read it. I believe that my Levi is made perfectly and I believe thesame with your Baker.
    God bless,
    Jody

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  2. I think about this often too. My dad was physically deformed when he passed away, and while I certainly want him to be able to walk (and even run) and have all his mobility back, I don't want him to look so different in heaven that I don't recognize him.

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  3. So beautiful to imagine, and so mind-boggling too. ("I can only imagine" was our wedding song. so glad you included it!)

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  4. I fully believe we will recognize our loved ones in heaven, after all, their spirits or souls, what makes them who they really are, not their bodies, are what we will know. All the accounts I've read of those that have been briefly to "Heaven" whether in reality or in a dream that seemed so real, have known their loved ones, including the little boy of Dr. Bittner (sp) here in town. He drowned and was brought back but saw his uncle in heaven who had passed on a time before that. Those parents spoke at our church a few years ago and I still remember their testimony. I have a recording of it on cassette that I've been meaning to put on CD, and I will hopefully someday so that I can share it with those that haven't heard.

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  5. I fully believe we will recognize our loved ones in heaven, after all, their spirits or souls, what makes them who they really are, not their bodies, are what we will know. All the accounts I've read of those that have been briefly to "Heaven" whether in reality or in a dream that seemed so real, have known their loved ones, including the little boy of Dr. Bittner (sp) here in town. He drowned and was brought back but saw his uncle in heaven who had passed on a time before that. Those parents spoke at our church a few years ago and I still remember their testimony. I have a recording of it on cassette that I've been meaning to put on CD, and I will hopefully someday so that I can share it with those that haven't heard.

    ReplyDelete