Heaven (Part 2)

Jesus fought and died for us. He is a valiant warrior. This is one reason I gotta go see Him when I die. I painted a picture of this in my previous entry called “Heaven”.

There’s another reason I gotta see Jesus when I die. He tends my wounds. This is the tender side to the fighter in Him. Here are my wounds: I’ve been hurt. Hurt others. Hurt myself. Failed to love. To forgive. To give. To find “my place in this world”. My previous dreams turned out to be a smokescreen for emptiness and self-rejection. Can you identify? I think most can, at least to one degree or another.

Then, I began to let Jesus tend my wounds, primarily through leaving the legalism of my own heart and finding a group of people who act as a “Room of Grace” where I am accepted and where my wounds are tended. Sometimes it has been a painstaking process because all along the way I have so many questions like, “Why would God care about me?” Or, “I guess He’s probably putting up with me, since He has to.” How could anyone trust a God like that one? Getting to the point where I finally realized that God flat-out desires to rescue and heal me took a couple years. This past year has been the best year of my life.

When I go to heaven, I gotta see the One who is tending my wounds right now. I gotta see the Great Physician, the wound-care specialist. He puts His arm around me. He tells me everything is okay, that there isn’t anything wrong with me even when things are falling apart. He doesn’t care how I perform or hold up against those who hurt me. He’s more concerned with me than my performance.

He isn’t just a fighter or a valiant warrior. He also cries with me. Spends time with me. Laughs with me. Tends to my wounds. I get to spend the rest of forever with this Gentle Shepherd. This Great Physician.

This is Heaven.