I’ve often wondered what my first moments in heaven will be like. I’m sure whatever I imagine, won’t come remotely close to what awaits. But this picture gives me goose bumps. And I do hope it begins something like this.
It’s easy for me to imagine myself running towards Him. Tears of joy, thankfulness, love and excitement over the one who saved me. Standing before me, the very one who washed me with his blood. Somehow, through His atonement, this stain-ridden girl was wiped clean. Calvary made heaven a reality, even for someone like me. So of course, I imagine a full-on sprint to the arms of my redeemer. And while I try do that each morning, it will be different. Because in glory, I will finally be whole, flawless and perfect.
I guess I struggle with the thought that He would run towards me. After all, I’m clothed in filth. Torn, disgusting rags. There’s nothing remotely worthy of me. I’ve failed more than I’ve succeeded. And what flows from my heart is far from holy. I’m the cause of the thorny crown. I may as well been the one with the hammer, nailing him to the cross. I’m the one who caused his death.
His humble intercession of my red scarlet letter. My robe of shame washed in his blood. Somehow, he declares me righteous. He intercepted the deserved stones hurled by the enemy. And he lifted me up from the weight of sin. Of course I long to hug the Savior of my soul.
So naturally, my head often doubts that he eagerly awaits my arrival. So many God-fearing, loyal followers crossing that threshold. There’s nothing of greatness about me. I’m but one of eight billion. In the hierarchy of saints, I am lower than low. Maybe I will just enter or arrive; no spectacular homecoming or welcoming. Even in that, I’d be grateful.
But I’ve realized, of course he will run to me! I’m one of the cherished least of these. He will sprint towards me with joy and excitement on that day! He will usher me into my eternal home and seat me at his table. My path was paved some 2000 years ago. My decision to follow him secured my place. He will escort me to a special and perfect seat awaiting with my name on it. That is Jesus.
I’m not done here. Lord willing, I have a few more decades. But for now, every day, every moment, every breath I want for Him. I don’t want to get caught up in the nonsense of life or the trivial of debate. My allegiance cannot be divided. He’s my Savior and Lord. And although me embracing the cross is the reason he will run towards me, I strive for a faithfulness that will echo the words, “Well done good and faithful daughter. I’ve waited for you…… you’re home.”
