Cielo

Heaven. I remember when I first heard about it as a small child. As any curious adolescent would, I pestered my mother endlessly with questions about what I could take to Heaven, who would be there, why I had to go, where I would live, what the angels looked like, and who I would be. I was always so frustrated by her answers, which all left it wide open and up to speculation. She told me a story once about a woman named Ellen G. White who had a vision about Heaven and then came back to earth unable to tell about it. I thought that was rotten luck, and wished I would have a dream. I would tell EVERYONE my dream so that they could all know what it was like. I didn’t like not knowing and I didn’t like how many questions my parents and teachers couldn’t answer. For a little while I got obsessed with reading Revelation. I read and reread the chapters describing the Heavenly city and tried to picture it all – even tried some measly sketches (I was quite the artist back in third grade…) but never felt like I grasped it.

Unanswered questions probably lead to huge levels of curiosity in most people, but to me it just caused a lack of interest. I decided that I didn’t want Jesus to come back for a long time because I wanted to grow up and get a job and travel the world. I had too many plans for Him to come back yet. I mean, come on, I was only in fourth grade, and if He came back now I was never going to get to be an eighth grader. I really wanted to be in eighth grade. High school called my name! College was on the horizon! I knew that I had multiple brilliant careers ahead of me… At least, that’s what my mom said. And I wasn’t ready to give up any of those. Well, I would give them up if Jesus just HAD to come now… But I didn’t like the idea. I wanted a good 50 years. So I became distant from the idea of Heaven. When the nice little ladies with the big smiles told the children stories in church and asked, “So, who wants to go to Heaven?” at the end of the story about Jimmy stealing candy at the grocery store, I just wasn’t too jazzed. No offense nice little lady with the big smile and the intriguing story, but I want to own a mansion and a yacht and a Saint Bernard. Or at least a four-wheeler. As I grew up, and even through high school and my first two years after graduation I wasn’t all too jumpy to get on the “When we all get to Heaven!” wagon.

Then I met the world. Like I had never met it before. Because something was different this time… I was different this time. I stopped looking at hurt people and wondering why they were hurt – I now felt the agony streaking their faces. I saw the vicious cycle of sin and the abuse and the violence and the unadulterated hatred that clung from this world like filthy rags. All of a sudden, the yacht, the brilliant career, or even the four-wheeler just weren’t that big of a deal to me. Now these people were a big deal to me. Now, seeking the hurting and the broken was a big deal to me. And oh, how I longed for Heaven. The idea of no pain, no hatred, no malice, no more broken people. The ability to live a life in complete simplicity with the Lover of my soul… the Man who’s absolutely obsessed with me. I wanted it more than anything. And I still want it more than anything. Complete intimacy with God. Wow.

There’s a song by Phil Wickham that’s called “Cielo.” It’s stunning. If you’ve never heard it, I dare you to listen to it. And when you listen to it, I dare you to actually think about it. And then I dare you to forget the house, the family, the boat, the trips around the world, all the things you’ve planned for yourself … And then realize that all that really matters is complete intimacy with God.