Month: June 2018

I had a little glimpse of heaven recently. It wouldn’t have looked like much to the casual observer, just some old friends reuniting after a long separation. But it was really an earthly veneer on a Kingdom moment. It was a foretaste of the one-day homecoming that will bowl us over with the sheer joy of it all.

If we’re really honest, a lot of Christians aren’t that excited about Heaven. Given a choice between Heaven and hell, they’ll gladly choose Heaven, but secretly they wonder why there can’t be a third option. Something with a little less singing. They’ve seen the pictures and the Kingdom looked a little dated. So many puffy clouds and billowing robes and half naked winged cherubs. In heaven, shouldn’t you be able to avoid the imminent wardrobe malfunction that seems to be the lot of all the saints?  Few of us are eagerly waiting to be assigned a cloud and a harp.

That picture of Heaven isn’t enough to motivate us, and it certainly doesn’t attract us, draw us closer, or invite us to explore further.  Am I really going to be beaten, shipwrecked, persecuted, give up my rights, lay down my life, for a harp?

What we are looking forward to is something more. Something better, richer, fuller. It’s not the streets of gold or the pearly gates. No, it’s a longing to be our very best selves. And to share that best self with the people we love awkwardly, imperfectly now. To understand, and be understood. To be revealed for who we really are and to know that we’re neither judged nor condemned, but loved. Sought after. Welcomed.

Our highest hope isn’t the wealth of Heaven, or the wardrobe. Our highest hope is the promise of perfect unity with God and with others. A place where the pleasure of togetherness won’t ever end. Don’t we want this? To be reunited with our loved ones? To be made one again with our loved One?

The whole purpose for Jesus’ death and resurrection was to restore us to the wholeness, the holiness, that God intended for us from the beginning.  The perfection of Eden made permanent. That’s the promise of Heaven. That we will linger in the garden, walk with our Beloved in the cool of the evening, and the snake will never whisper doubt into our hearts.  Because we will KNOW that we are loved fully, completely, with a nothing-held-back kind of love.

I recently took part in a Guinness World Record attempt for most people doing pushups simultaneously. A crowd category is probably my only chance for any kind of World Record. I can’t think of anything that I’m literally, quantifiably the “best in the world” at. But I can show up and be part of something much bigger than me.

The World Record attempt was part of a childhood cancer awareness event. Some truly amazing people paraded before me on that high school field – warriors all. A young lady stood with her sisters and shared about the fundraiser she started after one was diagnosed with cancer. The girls are named Faith, Hope and Peace. Hope is the one with cancer.

Of course Hope is the target.

Hope is desire and longing for something unseen to be real, for what we desperately want to be true to be actual fact. It’s the source, the fertile soil, from which faith and love grow. And because of that, it’s utterly opposed.

Hope is always what our enemy is trying to take out. He says it’s not for us, there’s no possibility of change, a fresh start is impossible. And without hope, we give up. Like Job we cry, “My days are over. My hopes have disappeared. My heart’s desires are broken” (Job 17:11). The enemy wants us to believe that loss is the inevitable end of all things.

But God says something different is not just possible but inevitable when He’s part of the equation. The old is gone and something new and wonderful has taken its place (2 Corinthians 5:17). The question is, do we live like we believe it – as though what we hope for is true – even if we can’t yet see it?

I think that’s why James describes hope as a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls.

We who have fled to him for refuge can take new courage, for we can hold on to his promise with confidence. This confidence (this hope) is like a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. Hebrews 6:18-19

Hope is our lifeline. To lose hold of hope means to be cast adrift, lost at sea. We must keep a firm grasp on it.  “So take a new grip with your tired hands and strengthen your weak knees” (Hebrews 12:12) and hold on to hope with everything you’ve got.  It’s the way out, the rescue.

Maybe the enemy has come after your hope. Your situation looks irreversible, impossible. Hopeless. You can identify with the prophet Jeremiah when his home was overrun and destroyed by an invading army –

I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness, the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed.  I remember it all – oh, how well I remember – the feeling of hitting the bottom. Lamentations 3:19-20 MSG

There is a way out of the pit. There’s a lifeline that will bring you back to the surface. Hold on to it and do not let go. The steadfast, eternal, unchanging lovingkindness of God is the bedrock that holds hope’s anchor fast.

There’s one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope: God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up. They’re created new every morning. How great your faithfulness! Lamentations 3:21-24 MSG

I’m still thinking about those brave sisters, attempting to do something that seems impossible. Yes, Hope is the target. But Faith holds on to Hope and won’t let go.