I’m not one to dwell on heaven–if I’m being honest. Sure, I think about the eternal consequences of my daily choices, but longing for the actual place and experience isn’t a feeling I would normally identify with. Unexpectedly, this week was different though. God kindly helped me “see” that unseen place more clearly than ever before, and it sparked something in me that I might just call homesickness.
I recently had a doozy of a conflict with my husband. Like, a miss your flight because the Lord wants to give you time to work it out, kind of conflict. As we sat in the car calmly rehashing our perspectives and watching the rain fall on the windshield, everything around me felt sad and broken, and everything inside me was defeated and crushed under the weight of hurt and hopelessness, and I broke into a sob. It was in that moment that I realized this is it, this is the pain that will be no more, these are the tears He will wipe away; all the yuck, the sin, the brokenness, the death that He warned us would come if we disobeyed. In that moment of desperation my heart flew to the hope of heaven, and the Comforter who will one day make all things whole again.
Deep tissue massage. If you’ve never experienced a professional massage, I wish you that blessing as soon as possible. The occasional husband or friend-given massage just doesn’t compare with the knowledgeable hands of a trained massage therapist. As I soaked in the relaxation of a dim, quiet room, expectant that this stranger would alleviate all my aches and pains, I was not disappointed. In slight disbelief, I felt tension and toxins being released in every part of my body, and I decided that massage therapists should have been called magicians. I’ve always been fascinated by the anatomical science that somehow means pushing or pulling this or that will result in the stars aligning and everything feeling right in the world. Then I thought, wow… this is what healing feels like. I don’t dwell often on the limitations my earthly body brings, but recently (maybe it’s this aging thing?) I’ve had more complaints than usual. In that 60-minute session there was something ethereal about it all melting away. A smile spread across my face as I pictured this feeling, magnified to infinity, when I step into the presence of my Savior. Warmth and inexplicable salubrity felt so fulfilling, and so fleeting. I am longing for the day when my Maker will stretch out His hand and cover me with a restorative balm of pure, enduring light that will never fade.
Sex, in its purest and most holy form is better than comfort food, better than relaxing fireside, better than awaking to a fresh snowfall. Intimacy with your spouse is home. There is something deeply, inexplicably satisfying about physical oneness. After a recent evening of glorious, really darn-good sex, I had a realization: That ecstatic fulfillment unlike any other, that cozy “home” feeling I get when my husband and I come together, that is penultimate pleasure pointing to ultimate pleasure. It’s gonna be a good day when we ascend to meet the One for whom we were created. The One our soul has known from the beginning–His beauty and glory will diffuse through every atom of our being when we are united with Him, face to face, and we will know more truly than ever before that we are home. If such mysterious gratification can be found in the arms of my finite and sinful spouse, can you image what deep, unending joy will be ours when we finally join our flawless Groom in that wondrous place? Bliss. Eternal bliss. A bottomless well of something as soul-mending as the afterglow of really great sex–except it won’t be an afterglow because there won’t be any “after”– just an eternity of pure, absolute satisfaction in the Lover of our soul.
“Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion.”
-Psalm 84:5 ESV