I'd Rather Be Gardening, Wouldn't You?

It's just that I have a love affair with summer. We have had the most delicious nights with the sun setting late. I can smell the lilacs, the apple blossoms, the grape blossoms; it's a heady, swoony feeling. I want to go out and check the seedlings one more time, swing on the tire, dig a bucket of dandelions, reintroduce my bare feet to the soil, walk, run, go on a road trip, read a great book, dream of childhood, climb a tree, hold hands, name the constellations . . . Don't you?
Every summer I get this feeling of intense longing. I remember feeling it in Kansas as a child, in Nebraska wtih Grandma & Grandpa, in Cote d'Ivoire as a teen, in Wisconsin as a young adult, and still now. The other day I was driving down a tree-lined lane in North Platte, seeing ladies working in their lawns and people walking and garage sales and I felt so overwhelmed by longing that my chest was tight. I long for peace and rest from drama & worry. I long for all the pains I pray for to be healed and no longer burdensome. I long for there to be an evening of pure childhood innocence of the world's evils. As I was driving that day, it occurred to me that what I am pining for is Heaven! At first I felt a little dismayed that I never can completely have these longings fulfilled here, but then a quick sense of relief and a little more understanding of the meaning of Heaven. There will be no night there. Just basking in the light of Jesus' glory, and OH! Pouring out all my stored-up worship for ever and ever, and green growing things and peace.