A Matter of Perspective

     It was cold. At least, it felt cold to the two children dancing in the rain. Heads tilted against the torrential downpour, they came shrieking and laughing onto the porch for temporary shelter. Dripping wet, the younger one tapped my arm lightly the way you might touch a pan to see if it is too hot to carry.

    “Isn’t my hand cold?” Her eyes glittered with happiness. “It is so cold out here! It is as cold as when it snows! I think so!”

     And she dashed back into the rain.

     The thermometer in my kitchen read 92 degrees. Granted, in the rain outside, it was ten degrees cooler, but certainly not cold enough for snow.

     My daughter’s understanding of temperatures is warped from living in Africa for the past three years. America’s chill is long forgotten. But she knows that one day she will experience winter and this, this is how cold it will be!

     Even as I smiled at her skewed perspective, I realized we are the same, she and I.

     My expectations of Heaven are warped by today’s realities. Judging by what I read in the Bible and from life’s experiences, I try to imagine the intensity of being in His presence, to visualize what Heaven must look like. But earthly that I am, my best efforts cannot do justice to the glories that are to come.

     My shivering daughter returned to my side. She needed a towel and dry clothes. Her feet were cold, she said, and her arms were covered in goosebumps. I smiled, knowingly. One day soon she will find out what cold really is.

    After she was dry, we sat tightly together on the porch, my arms wrapped around her as we watched the rain. I tightened my hug, enjoying the moment. This, this togetherness must surely be like the love in Heaven.

     And my Father smiles, knowingly. One day soon I will find out.