Yesterday I spent much of the day in Cologne, Germany, worshipping with the widowed son of an old friend. Yesterday would have been their 40th anniversary. Fortunately for him, he had his son's family, two grandchildren, and his son's in-laws from Texas to spend the day with him. His wife fought cancer for 6 years before succumbing 4 years ago. While he is kept busy serving God, he is still alone, and I could hear that in his voice as we shared some experiences.
I can now listen to Sarah Brightman's beautiful love songs without choking or tearing, perhaps because I have come to grips with the fact that as beautiful, wonderful, enduring as the love of a man for a woman can be, it is only for this side of eternity. I believe that it will be replaced by a love that is astonishingly greater that we will have for one another on the other side of eternity. There will be no "physical" component there, no jealousy, no hurt, no cliques, no isolation - only an enduring intimacy that will make the word "fellowship" pale into insignificance.
Still, we are bound by our physical presence here, and cannot experience the intimacy of love as it was intended by ourselves. We are not complete in and of ourselves, and no degree of having been complete in the past is sufficient for the present. A wonderful past relationship is but a reflection, a glimpse of what the other side of eternity has to offer - unbounded by physical limitations or spirits chained up in physical minds. What a pity that the world around us cannot imagine a form of love that is not limited in scope of breadth or depth or height or anything at all. Yet, are even we who are believers able to ask for or imagine this love?
"Just show me how to love you", "The last words you said to me", "Love changes everything" all still make the hair on the back of my neck stand up with chills down the spine. Yet, these are written based upon the world's views of love.
The story of the rich man and Lazarus make me wonder what Karen would say to Father Abraham as she gazes upon me-what message she would send to me, our children, and our grand-children. And yet, I cherish the letter that a woman who never met Karen wrote to us as though it were from Karen. I have to believe that the Spirit gave her the words to write.
I hope to one day love again; because I miss that daily glimpse of Heaven. I know all too well that the glimpse is not without imperfections, for the earthly model is not without pain, sickness, tears, and death. For all of those imperfections, however, it is also not without a joy that fulfills. So I hope to again sing those songs, not to a memory nor to a hope, but to a present.
