Heaven in the Here and Now: A Holiday Reflection
The holiday season is upon us. For many, the season is filled with joy and delight, while others dread the hustle and bustle or the painful memories of the past. I am somewhere in between. As I get older, I am learning to let the stress of meticulous details go so I can enjoy the moment. My children have also been a considerable help in cultivating joy-filled holidays. While Christmas is a time of year my kids enjoy, Thanksgiving has their hearts.
I grew up an only child with a small extended family, but I married into a large clan. If your lineage hails from Texas and has been connected to the Church of Christ, you very well may know someone from the Hance clan. My father-in-law was one of Bill and Mary Frances Hance’s eight children, making my husband, Robert, one of 32 grandchildren. When I finally realized the family I was marrying into, my extroverted heart wept with joy. There would always be someone to talk to at family gatherings!
With so many people and schedules to coordinate, Bill and Mary Frances began a Thanksgiving tradition of renting out a small Christian camp outside of Austin, complete with cabins, hiking trails, and a mess hall. For the past fifty years, the Hance clan has gathered every Thanksgiving at this camp to partake in good food and family camaraderie. “Camp,” as the Hances call it, was a highlight for my husband growing up and has now become a highlight for my children.
This past Thanksgiving, though, a real sense of joy fell upon me. The evening was rolling around, and I was mixing up a large pot of mac ‘n’ cheese in the industrial-sized kitchen. As I peered into the mess hall, I saw quite a sight. Groups of people gathered together to play cards. Folks swinging by the buffet to nibble on leftover turkey and pie. Kids ran in and out of the hall, laughing and smiling. A group of folks swooned over the youngest Hance, a 15-month-old great-grandchild, up past her bedtime.
You should know: the mess hall is nothing fancy. The tables and chairs are plastic, and the floor is concrete. The dishes are aluminum pans and mismatched plates. But the simplicity of the moment took my breath away as joy filled the air. And for a moment, I felt like I was in heaven.
This family, like all families, has its struggles. There are single parents, those who are divorced, those who struggle with addiction, those who struggle with pride, those with estranged children, and those who are just getting by. And this year, we all felt the sadness of losing a beloved member of the family earlier in the year. But none of these labels that often plague us in our daily lives, and even sometimes define us at church, mattered. All who were there were living in the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus. And there was so much love. Love that sees beyond failure and towards the goodness granted to each by God. Judgment was gone, and only love and acceptance flowed through the air. It was as if time were standing still, and we were all basking in the love of each other and our God. While I have always enjoyed camp, this moment made it clear why it is such a special place my kids look forward to each year.
While the scriptures tell us heaven may have streets of gold and mansions to dwell in, I hope it also has a whole lot of camp. Souls bound together through the love of God, enjoying the moment and one another. Time to spare, an abundance of provisions. The mess hall fireplace will be replaced by the throne of God, and love will fill the place. God’s love will overflow onto us, our love flowing back to him, with souls joined together, feasting, laughing, and being together in perfection made possible by Christ.
No matter what feelings the holidays bring up for you, I pray you have a moment where time stands still, and the love of heaven descends upon you. I pray you are filled with unexplainable joy and love so pure that any shame or pain falls away, and you can bask in the glory of God’s goodness in the here and now.
