Distinctiveness is God’s creation, not merely a fleeting whim. What makes us unique will survive. In fact, much of our uniqueness may be uncovered for the first time in Heaven. We’ll be real people with real desires, but holy ones. We’ll have real feelings, but feelings redeemed from pride and insecurity and wrong thinking. We’ll be ourselves—with all the good and none of the bad. And we will consider it, in just the right sense, a privilege to be who God has made us to be.
Randy Alcorn, We Shall See God
I read those words. I had to read them twice. Then three times. “…much of our uniqueness may be uncovered for the first time in Heaven.” I got it. Why? Because I know so much of what I’ve wanted out of life – what I’ve wanted to do and be and where I’ve wanted to go – has been painted over with this thick sludge of everything that happens in the course of living. Things seldom go perfectly to plan, still, we manage.
But I have to admit, a good part of that sludge is my own fault. I worry. I take shortcuts. I ignore things of inconvenience. I drive like an idiot (although I’m the best driver I know). Like I’ve said so many times here, I’m self-interested – I err on the side of me more often than not [and if you have read what I’ve written in this line before, you’ll know too that I see it as a human trait that doesn’t belong to me only].
And so that’s why the Alcorn quote works so well for me – because it’s the first time I could imagine myself stripped of all the garbage. It’s a new perspective that shows me this hope that there will come a time when my struggles in life will be gone and that person underneath that I kick myself for not letting out (or maybe even not knowing is there) will finally be able to breathe.
And it all comes from this one thing — the hope of salvation. You have to get to Heaven to experience the “unique” you – the one that was there all along, but covered over by the weight of a creation that groans for its burden. And maybe that’s a clue to Hell too. Paul writes three times, near the beginning of his letter to the Romans, of the people who preferred living in the sludge of their rebellion. He writes that “God gave them up.” To what? To go on doing exactly what they wanted to do. And on, and on. And then there’s death. And then on and on.
Really, do you want to live as the person you are experiencing right now for eternity? I’m not saying this as someone who hates his life. I’ve got plenty going for me. Most everyone does. But I know there’s more. Much more. A time of pure peacefulness, where all of the garbage is stripped away. A time when “our uniqueness may be uncovered…” A time when we get to see our true selves for the first time.
And who wouldn’t want that?