Thursday, May 1, 2008

Wife Rule #43: A Perfect Ten (Part Three)

My grandfather was a career chaplain in the US Army during World War II, and spent twenty years or so ministering at the local VA hospital afterwards. He gave literally thousands of sermons. A few years before he died, he recorded a handful of them--those he considered most precious, I'm sure--onto cassette tapes so that his posterity might have a few of his words. I am in possession of these precious words now, and a story from one of his sermons comes to my mind on this, our tenth anniversary.

It went something like this: An old man was sitting one evening with his wife of 50+ years, holding her hand. He softly asked her, "What do you think we will be doing a million years from tonight?"

"Come now, LeGrande, who in the world knows that?" she responded.

"No, seriously, what do you think the two of us will be doing together, a million years from now? Because just as surely as tomorrow morning will come, so will a year from now, and a hundred years from now, and a million years from now."

Now honey, I know you usually don't like to spend time pondering about things that we both know are impossible to wrap our minds around; but after ten years together, this isn't so mind-boggling, is it? I mean, we have a pretty good idea of what life is like together.

So indulge me.

Where will we be living a million years from now? If we hold faithful to what we both know to be true, then we will be living here, on this very earth, with the Savior of Mankind. He will have finished His redeeming work, and this earth will no longer be inhabited by the ungodly. Maybe we'll finally have that mansion that I could never promise I'd get you in our present life. If we do, we won't care; possessions will be irrelevant when we are joint-heirs with Him, sharing fully the infinite resources of this universe.

What will it be like to be alive a million years from now? Our resurrected bodies will be perfected, free from sickness, weakness, and that extra weight we pack around presently. I for one can't wait to never be drowsy again. Not being required to sleep or eat will not only remove so much of our mortal discomforts, but think of all the extra time we'll have together, for talking, for walking, for working!

Maybe when pain and discomfort are gone, with our endless stamina, we can do some of those extreme hikes into remote wilderness, which I love so much, but that are too much bother for now. Think of it, we could go camping every night....

Of course, we'll be sure to do lots of stuff that you love, too. I'm pretty sure that time and space will be rather irrelevant, so we will be free to take a stroll along the beach together whenever you say the word. Will the crisp, salty, evening air still smell so strong? Will the sea foam and wet sand at dusk still feel cold on eternal toes? We'll find out, together.

And with boundless locomotive abilities, we can chase sunrises and sunsets all day long if we want. We can look forward to an unlimited fill of sun-saturated, golden light, suitable for snapping a million mental pictures. We won't need cameras with our perfect minds, of course.

Or, we might just decide to enjoy the comforts of home. We have already experienced the joys of our first five children. Think of the happy commotion when we've had a million years to grow our family! Children and grandchildren, and great-great-great-[insert large number of greats here]-great-grandchildren will come to visit, and there will be room for all. Even though we won't have to eat, I'm sure we can still serve them all milk and cookies, and kick back on fine cushions on our super-sized porch and tell them stories of the ancient days, back in 2008 Mortal Time, when we had only been together for ten years--ten perfect, wonderful years.

With wistful tears in our eyes, we'll recall how very little we knew way back then about just how perfect our life together would ever become; how every hope and dream we dared to have, and even more we didn't dare to have, had been fulfilled and excelled to a nearly infinite degree. It will boggle our minds to think of how simple life was then, and how much more we have to be thankful for now.

So let's begin our next million years together right now, today, with a promise that we'll never forget what we may someday become, should we choose such a life together--indeed, what we already are, even if only in an embryonic stage, if we'll recognize it now: an Eternal Family.

I can hardly wait to get started.

1 comment:

chelse said...

sign me up for those million years because it sounds pretty darn good!