Can You Imagine?

Those of you who've been reading along with me as I place my thoughts and feelings and fears and sorrows and joys and ... well ... as I place my life in the words of this blog have read many things about my sweet dad. Often when I go speak to women's groups, I talk about my dad ... about his legacy, about the things he taught me, about the way he loved me. Dad really was a incredible man, and he had a faith that was as solid as a rock. If to be absent from the body means we are instantly in the presence of God, then I know beyond the shadow of any doubt that when Daddy drew his last labored breath with my sister and I by his side, he was ushered into heaven on the wings of angels.

As Daddy aged, he used to talk about heaven quite a bit, and oddly enough, even when his mind was ravaged by Alzheimer's, he continued to talk about heaven. When nothing else he said made any sense, when he didn't recognize his wife or children ... Daddy's talking and quoting scripture about heaven was always right on center. Dad was a Southern Baptist through and through, and hence, he thought very highly of Billy Graham. We always watched the Billy Graham crusades on TV and even got to attend one when he came to Chattanooga many, many years ago. It was almost a surreal experience for me when I took my own two youngest children to see Billy Graham here in Kansas City when they were in high school. As his son Franklin helped his feeble father onto the stage, the crowd erupted into a standing ovation that lasted for several minutes. I couldn't help but think about my dad and what he would have said to Brad and Meghann had he been there with us that day. Though my children initially grumbled about attending the event, they were silent as we walked to the car, recognizing that they had just witnessed an amazing chapter in Christian faith history.

The news last week that Billy Graham was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia has caused me not only to lift him and his family up in prayer, it has also caused my mind to park for a time on my sweet old Daddy. While Dad certainly enjoyed the preaching of Mr. Graham, he equally enjoyed the deep alto voice of Ethyl Waters, an African-American woman whose rendition of "His Eye is on The Sparrow" couldn't help but melt even the coldest heart. And Daddy would often say in his discussion of heaven, "I hope that God sees fit to give me just a little old shack right next door to Ethyl so I can hear her hummin' for all eternity."

Each time another icon of the faith leaves this world, such as David Wilkerson a few weeks ago (the founding pastor of Times Square Church and author of The Cross and the Switchblade), I find myself thinking about all the folks who either are already or will one day be in heaven. Can you imagine serving side by side with Mother Teresa or Dwight L. Moody? Can you imagine singing in a heavenly choir with Ethyl Waters or Mahalia Jackson? Can you imagine taking a walk down the streets of gold with Moses or Paul or Ruth? I know that in God's eyes we are all the same ... sinners saved by grace, covered by the blood of Jesus. But in my humanness, I can't help but think how awesomely cool it will be to share heaven with such pillars of the faith.

But most of all ... can you imagine what it will be like to see Jesus for the first time? Can you imagine falling down before Him in worship? Can you imagine being in the presence of the One who died for you? Can you even begin to imagine?