When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—the moon and the stars you have set in place—what are mortals that you should think of us, mere humans that you should care for us?
We had been hiking all day in the mountains of the Czech Republic, and around three o'clock, with our camp nowhere in sight, we all felt tired and cranky. There were about fifteen of us—leaders and high school students from a summer evangelistic camp. The sun burned brightly in the afternoon light, and the sweat dried on our faces and necks, leaving a crusty feeling. We had reached the stage of the hike I dreaded—feeling overcome by a numbing weariness and lacking strength just to put one heavy foot in front of the other.
For fifteen minutes straight I thought only about the blister on my heel and about the fact that my water had run out an hour before. I stopped enjoying the breathtaking scenery of the mountains and fixated on my feet. With my pace slowing, I knew the end would be longer in coming. I started to encourage myself, thinking, It isn't so bad; nobody has ever died from sore feet.
As we descended the mountain, the path opened up into a clearing in the trees, and the hillside sloped gently into a small riverbed. We could see our campsite below us, and the tall grass was filled with short, scraggly bushes. Upon closer inspection we discovered, to our great delight, that the bushes were full of ripe blueberries. Without discussion we each found our place in the grass and began to eat.
Almost imperceptibly the collective mood began to change. We laughed and insisted on showing each other every perfect, purple, plump berry we discovered. As we chatted, we flashed purple smiles, and our faces, fingers, and shirts bore the marks of our indulgence. Our troop dotted the hillside—stooping down or sitting in the middle of the berry patch as we delightfully picked, examined, and then popped berries into our mouths. Soon I lay on my back, blissfully satiated and soaking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.
That is what I imagine heaven to be like. Not only were my hunger and thirst satisfied, but I felt I had tasted something more than fresh blueberries—an imitation of the life to come. In the contentment of my rest stop on the mountainside, I considered heaven as the full satisfaction of our longing. God is preparing for his children a place where happiness is deep and lasting.
What glimpses of heaven has God recently sent my way?
Creator God, thank you for those occasional mountaintop reminders that life is about more than the daily routine. when the routine gets tedious and I wonder where you are, help me to remember those times when you've declared, "Look! Here I am!"
Something to Think About
"If worship is just one thing we do, everything becomes mundane. If worship is the one thing we do, everything takes eternal significance."
—Timothy J. Christenson
Copyright © Tyndale House Publishers.
Used by permission.
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