My experience seeing one of my children graduate to eternity has made me think differently about eternity. It is so short- it must be. This kronos (the Greek term from which we get calendar and clock time- chronology) time thing is the interminably long part. I’ll take kairos (salvation history) anytime. Kairos (God’s time) is a millisecond. It is the real that must be wrapped in minutes, hours and years. If a thousand years is like a day, then even the longest period of measurable time is a skiff of time. But, in kronos terms, to get from here (time) to there (eternity) seems like it takes an “eternity” in the vernacular understanding of forevermore. Waiting until the kids grow, until retirement comes, until the grandkids start driving, until maturity is realized, until the house is finally paid off, until we can get out of the car after the cross country trip, until patience is finally achieved, until we finally appreciate knowledge of our life’s greatest contributions, until the curtain of our lives come down (Mitch’s is the only one in my immediate finally who has had that chapter revealed)- it all seems like a long, long, very long time. It doesn’t seem like a wisp of time, but a marathon of experiences slowly rolling out, one after another. Only in retrospect to an old person with failing memory does it seem fleeting like a breath or grass in the field.
However, when we cross over, it will all be different. When we enter heaven, we enter the eternal present. Everything will be within reach- creation, the first advent, the second advent, Satan’s destruction, the new heaven and earth, every human with whom we could interact, the moment we were introduced to Jesus and the moment we first stood before the throne. Time will be out of the way. Like clouds rolling away to finally reveal the sun, time will no longer be the great divide. We will be able to stretch out our arms and touch Genesis and Revelation, the before and the after. We will worship God with the very first person to ever worship God simultaneously with the last person who will be taken into his presence. Won’t it be great? That throng will represent not only every tribe and tongue and race and language. But, it will represent every era, period and civilization. No waiting for the future any more- it will be right there. No struggle to recall faded memories. They will be as vibrant as the experiences themselves. In fact, everything good will never fade.
So, for now we wait. But, we wait, not as laggards, purposeless, with little to do. No! We wait, with energy and activity. We need to do everything that he calls us to do to prepare for that very full eternity. We need to fill our lives with the fullness with which he created us to experience. We are his fullness (Eph 2) to experience his fullness (Col. 1). He wants us to work as ambassadors (2 Cor. 5) and as those who bring the hope to the world (1 Cor. 15) as it waits for what it does not know. I am going to burn as brightly as possible for as long as possible in the here and now. Don’t get me wrong, waiting is not all bad. This waiting is sometimes the most exhilarating thing imaginable- soaking in every new development of the grandkids, enjoying every milestone of family members, savoring the smell and taste of new experiences, experiencing death come to life that can only be experienced on this side of eternity when a sinner steps into and is bathed by the light. Waiting is sometimes like Christmas, opening the gifts with great anticipation. But, this waiting is sometimes the most excruciating thing imaginable- waiting to see Jesus, waiting to have complete knowledge, waiting to be a complete overcomer and waiting to see once more that wonderful young man that we desperately miss.
Perhaps this waiting is what causes me to toggle between uncontainable joy and periodic times of sadness. The waiting itself is simultaneously a privilege, a joy and punishing tease. Right now, I am just going to “wait” to get off the plane to kiss my wife, worship at Timberview tomorrow, hug my grandchildren, get back to living the call, looking at the breath-taking view from my window, and seek the one who will lead me to a day of “no more waiting.”