Rollerblading with Jesus

A couple of my friends and I were talking about Heaven the other day.

****BACKUP STORY****

When I was younger, my sunday school teacher (I don’t remember her name, so let’s call her Mrs. Cheese) was giving us a lesson over Heaven and what it would be like. She read us Revelation 22:3, which reads: 

“No longer will there be a curse upon anything. For the throne of God and of the Lamb will be there, and his servants will worship him.”

Over and over Mrs. Cheese repeated “and his servants will worship him” “and his servants will worship him” “and his servants will worship him”

She said we would worship God forever and ever and ever. 

Back then, worship was singing hymns that I had not a clue as to what the words were. Worship was standing next to my mom and holding onto the pew for dear life before my legs gave out underneath me because worship was going on for so long…and when it seemed like it would be over the music minister would raise his hands again to signify more singing. I would have sworn I could hear the sighs of all of the children as the song started. 

That was worship for me. And if I was going to eternity why the heck would I ever want to do that for the rest of my life forever and ever?

Heaven just sounded like a long worship service and I WASN’T ABOUT TO put myself through that for eternity. 

This was my mindset until this summer. 

****BACKUP STORY OVER****

A couple of friends and I were talking about Heaven the other day. 

When I left Hidden Falls Ranch (the church camp I worked at this summer), the executive director said “guys, this is what the real world was intended to be like. Living like this and serving Jesus daily is what Jesus intended the real world to be like. This is what Heaven will be like except Heaven will be outstandingly better.”

People, worship isn’t just singing songs that you barely know. It’s not even just standing in church with your hands held high praising Jesus. Worship is living life daily with Jesus. Day by day, hour by hour, talking to Jesus about anything. 

This sounds crazy but as I was talking to my friends we started freaking out because we’ll be living–in the flesh—-right next to–Jesus Christ Himself. 

When we get to Heaven, the first thing we will get to do is sprint into Jesus’ arms. We’ll probably run into Him so hard that we’ll knock Him over. We get to give Him the biggest hug in the world and the arms of a man who knows you better than yourself, who knows every mistake you’ve made, every family problem you’ve had, every heartbreak that has thrown you down, every lonely minute you’ve had, every time you’ve looked into the mirror and started tearing up, every belly-laugh you’ve had, every embarrassing dance move you’ve created, every “secret handshake” you’ve had, will be wrapped around you. And behind Him watching will be everybody you known and loved who has known Jesus that has passed will be watching with the biggest smile on their faces. 

 

my brother will be there to greet you right behind Him. 

 

And guess what? All of that worship? Yeah that’ll happen too. 

Sure there will be a ton of singing. A TON OF SINGING. But you get to live with Jesus, talk with Jesus, live day by day with Him and the ones you love–for eternity.

Now, I don’t know that this part is entirely true–but if I get to live with Jesus (which is what the Bible says), we’re definitely rollerblading down the golden streets of Heaven. I want to hold His hand and rollerblade like mad-men down the golden streets of Heaven. 

Heaven doesn’t need to be this boring place. Life will be rich. 

Heaven will be full of belly-laughs.

Heaven will be full of secret handshakes.

Heaven will be full of dumb made-up dance moves.

Heaven will be full of jam sessions.

Heaven will be full of joy.

Heaven will be full of joy. 

Heaven will be full of joy. 

I apologize for ranting, but something THIS GOOD cannot be talked about enough. The thought of eternal joy is something my brain cannot contain and I am so thankful that it cannot contain it. 

Heaven will be full of joy. 

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