This morning I am writing my blog from vacation, from one of my favorite spots: Leech Lake in northern Minnesota. We're over halfway through our week here, where my mom met my dad over fifty years ago, and where we have taken periodic family vacations as far back as I can remember.
I love the sounds of the loons and the lap of the waves on the beach, especially as I'm sleeping. I love the sunrises and the sunsets. I love the giggles from the kids as they swim, kayak, and tromp around the cabin and the laughter from the adults as they play cards into the evening. I love watching my brother-in-law taking pictures of every bird he spots. I love sitting around the fire with my sisters and mom as we chat and read. I love feeling the tug on my line as I fish, and I love the warmth of the sun. If you haven't figured it out yet, I love everything about this place.
The problem: it's hard to go back. Even before we'd left home, I felt this uneasiness because I knew that just when I would be getting used to the feeling of being here, it would be time to go home. Home isn't a bad place to be; it's just that this setting is idyllic. It's the stuff songs are written of.
Here, one can be a kid or an adult.
I love the sounds of the loons and the lap of the waves on the beach, especially as I'm sleeping. I love the sunrises and the sunsets. I love the giggles from the kids as they swim, kayak, and tromp around the cabin and the laughter from the adults as they play cards into the evening. I love watching my brother-in-law taking pictures of every bird he spots. I love sitting around the fire with my sisters and mom as we chat and read. I love feeling the tug on my line as I fish, and I love the warmth of the sun. If you haven't figured it out yet, I love everything about this place.
The problem: it's hard to go back. Even before we'd left home, I felt this uneasiness because I knew that just when I would be getting used to the feeling of being here, it would be time to go home. Home isn't a bad place to be; it's just that this setting is idyllic. It's the stuff songs are written of.
Here, I don't have to pay attention to my calendar because frankly, this is what it looks like:
Is it possible that that this is God's way of hinting at what heaven will be like? Do you suppose an angel is standing there with a checklist, something like this?
Yes, I'm being facetious.
While I can't stay at this lake forever or pack my life in a box and move it here, God promises me (and you) a place even more peaceful, more joyous, more complete. While I have a lot I want to accomplish and experience here during my life, it brings a certain serenity to know that this vacation is simply a taste of what is to come.
"Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. 5 There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever." Revelation 22: 1-5