When I Get to Where I’m Going

As I look back on my years I have to say that I'm amazed at how quickly they’ve gone by. Someone has compared the brevity of life to the dash between the birth and death dates on our gravestones. I arrive. Swoosh. I’m gone.

When I do go, I want you to know that I’ll still be alive, more alive than ever before. Strength, dignity, mental acuity, ease of movement, excdllent eyesight and hearing, freedom from pain—I get all that back and then some. Furthermore, there'll be mountains, streams, rivers, lakes, flowers, art, music, books, dogs and all the other stuff that I love.

I know I’m going to Heaven because I take Jesus at His word. He said that everyone and anyone who believes in Him will live forever. And then He rose from the dead to show us that He meant what He said.

So, when I get to where I'm going, I'm going to look around for all my family and my friends. I pray that you’ll be there. Woody Allen once said that the most important thing in life is showing up. Philosopher Peter Kreeft quips, “That goes for the afterlife as well.”

David Roper

Homeless

Even the sparrow finds a home,

and the swallow a nest for herself,

where she may lay her young...

—Psalm 84:3

The author, a member of Israel's temple choir, was far from home. "Why should I be homeless," he laments, "when sparrows and swallows have a home?" 

The answer to this man's question is quite simple: Sparrows and swallows are birds. We are not. Birds and animals feel at home in their environment, but you and I never will. We try to settle down, but in our heart of hearts we know that this world is not our home. We're made for Heaven and nothing else will do. Our souls "yearn for the courts of the Lord" (84:2). 

So... "Please your Master and be merry, and for this world give not a cherry." Happiness is knowing that we're just a-passin' through, making our way toward Heaven and home (84:5). One foot up and one foot down. "We're marching upward to Zion, the beautiful City of God!" 

David Roper

Praise the Lord

Kings of the earth and all peoples,

princes and all rulers of the earth!

Young men and maidens together,

old men and children! 

Let them praise the name of the LORD... —148:11,12

"We (old folks) seem to have got left out of the old lists,” Tolkien’s Merry lamented. Yet the psalmist includes us: ”Let old men...praise the name of the Lord!" (148;12).

Sun, moon, stars, clouds, sea creatures, fire, hail, snow, mist, mountains, hills, fruit trees, cedar trees, wild animals, livestock, creeping things and flying birds, all creatures great and small—give a shout-out to God each morning because He sang them into existence (148:1-10).

We praise God for our existence as well, but more so for His redemptive love: He raised up a “horn”—a powerful deliverer—for us and brought us near (148:11-14). “Near so very near to God; nearer I could not be. For in the person of His Son, I am as near as He.” The love with which God loves His Son—such is his love for you and me.

Despite arthritic joints, aching backs and other discomforts, we can join with all creation and awaken each day with exuberant praise! ”God forbid that when all Thy creatures are greeting the morning with songs and shouts of joy, I alone should wear a dull and sullen face" (Olde John Baillie). 

David Roper

The Tell

"Let your face shine that we may be saved” (Psalm 3,7,18).

Faces are us. A frown, a grimace, a sullen look, a warm smile, crinkled eyes—reveal how we feel about others. Our faces are our "tell."

I remember my father's face: It was hard to read. He was a kind man, but stoic and self-contained. As a child, I often searched his face, looking for a smile, or some other show of affection. 

It's good to look away from our fears and search our Heavenly Father's face now and then, though it too is not always easy to read. The best way to see God’s face is to look at the Cross—His "tell" (John 3:16). Good Friday is God's face writ large! 

So know this: When your Father looks at you, he has a humongous smile on His face. You're very safe!

As, hungering for his father's face and eyes, 

The child throws wide the door, back to the wall,

I run to Thee, the refuge from poor lies. —George MacDonald

David Roper