— Chapter Ten —
This morning’s frigid temperature prompted me to start a roaring fire in the fireplace. The mercury plummeted as high winds set a new record on this extraordinary frigid New Year’s Eve. The house creaked as the icicles, the size of stalactites, hung treacherously from the gutters. Anxiously I walked from room to room checking to see whether or not the ice had caused any damage.
The sun’s reflection on the ice-laden trees across the street was a breathtaking picture framed by my partially frosted kitchen window. For the last couple of nights these same trees, beautifully silhouetted against the streetlight, couldn’t have been any less brilliant than what Monet or Renoir could have painted. It drew me to take in this spectacular beauty…alone.
The logs blazed during the morning, but were reduced to flickering embers by early afternoon. “I need a few more logs,” I directed my soliloquy to the lone scraggly poinsettia on the hearth. I brought in an armload of wood, careful not to knock over this last remnant of Christmas. Because its full blooms had added a touch cheeriness, I didn’t have the heart to throw it out. These freezing temperatures must have shocked it too!
Thankfully, the cold snap had waited until after Christmas. The weather dominated most of the news as reporters warned people to stay inside. Donning my warmest sweat suit, I shivered, not so much because the house was chilly, but from a cold that could not be measured in degrees. For the first time in my life, I was alone on New Year’s Eve. As the fire crackled, I sat down on the floor close to the fire while leaning my head against the sofa.
“It’s so cold...and so quiet,” I told this poor unsuspecting plant. “I feel like such a misfit. As a matter of fact, I feel like you look!” Its droopiness seemed to affirm my feelings. “I wish I knew where to fit in,” I continued airing my complaints with the only other living thing in the house. “Even my kitchen table offers an open invitation to sit anywhere I choose. When I go to church, it’s hard to know which class to attend. Am I a couple, with one part missing? Do I decline invitations when couples mostly attend? The post office has already generically labeled me “Ms” and “Occupant” without my permission.
“Oh, how I long to have my own special place. Not just for tonight, but a place that will never change. A place filled with love. A place that’s inviting, warm, and friendly. A place where there is joy—like this past Christmas.”
Heaven.
“Where did that come? I was thinking about this lonely wintry night … not heaven.”
Heaven, the word insisted on lingering. I began to savor its meaning. If spoken quickly or matter-of-factly, it simply denoted a celestial place referenced in the Bible.
But if Heaven were spoken unhurriedly …longingly, it stirred up a far deeper meaning than a place. It embraced words like safe, home and joy.
“God, is this You?”
Heaven cost Jesus so much in order that I might call it home. Thoughts of heaven prompted me to get a small cup of grape juice and a cracker. I returned to my warm spot on the floor next to the fire.
As the cracker dissolved on my tongue, I remembered Jesus’ sinless body that hung from a cruel cross. A sip from the cup brought tears as I pictured the agony when His blood poured from His side onto the ground. The Lamb of God, with outstretched arms, made it possible for me to be in heaven one day. He endured the pain so that I could have a place with Him forever.
One day I will hear Jesus say, “Come, Donna, I’ve prepared a place for you.27 Come, sit at My table.”28
A place.
My place.
I glanced at a magazine featuring a beautifully decorated table prepared for holiday guests. Then I imagined a never-ending table depicted in a painting I’d seen before. Will heaven’s table be set with exquisite place settings? How will the food be presented…on trays of gold and silver? Who will sit next to me?
I longed for fellowship that would last forever.
Heaven.
Home.
One day everything will be all right! One day I will sit at the place my Father has lovingly reserved for me. One day it will never be cold and lonely. One day He will be coming—for me!
“[So, Donna,] let not your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father’s house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. And If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am there you may be also” (John 14:1-3 NASB).
Copyright 2001, 2004 Donna Christensen
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Published Online by: The Biblical Reader
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