Austin's Blog

Many people seem to use Heaven almost as a way to rush grief along, to get it over as quickly as possible. Nancy Guthrie, a fellow bereaved parent who buried two precious children, writes, “Our culture wants to put the Band-Aid of heaven on the hurt of losing someone we love to death. Sometimes it seems like they think because we know the one we love is in heaven, we shouldn’t be sad. But they don’t understand how far away heaven feels, and how long the future seems as we see before us the years we have to spend on this earth before we see the one we love again.” They’re in Heaven. Be happy about it. You shouldn’t be sad. Get over it. No one would ever utter those words but that is often how the grieving feel when someone rushes to the promise of Heaven too hastily while you’re watering the earth with your tears.

There is, however, a right way for the reality of Heaven to reorient our hearts. The hope of Heaven is meant to push us forward. Paul tells us in Colossians 3:1-4, “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” As Christians, we are called to allow the weight of Heaven to sustain, anchor, and reframe our grief. The hope of Heaven isn’t meant to dismiss our sorrow but shape it. We set our minds on things above. We set our hearts on things above. We will appear with Christ in glory. Heaven provides comfort.

There’s more though. It isn’t just consolation; it is compensation. J.R. Miller reminds us that, “One of the surprises of heaven will be our finding there the precious hopes, joys, and dreams which seemed to have perished on earth—not left behind—but all carried forward and ready to be given into our hands the moment we get home.” Heaven will transform the light and momentary afflictions with its weight (2 Cor. 4:16-18), squeezing the grapes of our affliction into the wine of God’s gladness and hope. C.H. Spurgeon famously notes, “The joys of heaven will surely compensate for the sorrows of earth.” Compared to Heaven, the most miserable and tragic life will look like a short stay in a dirty hotel.

How should we use the hope of Heaven to steady us? Paul says in Philippians 4:8, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” Think about such things. Remind ourselves of Heaven’s glorious, coming reality. I’m fond of saying, “The longest chapter with my son lies in my future, not my past.” I repeat this to myself often.

What else can I say? The greatest stretch of the journey is ahead of me. The distance behind me with him is shorter than what’s ahead with him. Most of my time with him is waiting for me. Eternity with him outweighs what I am carrying without him. The longest part with him is when I arrive. I’ve known a dark winter, but my forever spring is coming. The fullest season with him has yet to bloom. The best day with him is still to come. My cup with him will be overflowing compared to the thimble I had. The best part of the song hasn’t been played yet. I’ve only stood in the doorway but soon I’ll walk into home with him. My time with him was just a small banquet. One day, we will feast forever together.