Missing Heaven before you get there
Written by Emma McCoy
5 minute read
Send this article to a friend:
One of the fun things about writing a weekly blog for Spring Church is getting to watch the progression of topics over time. Ideas build on each other, conversation grows deeper, and I get to participate in learning not only by attending church and talking to my friends, but also by engaging it in my writing.
In this season we’ve talked a lot about hope, which we define (using plain language) as:
hope: the desire for God’s future breaking into the present.
We walked through the fruits of the Spirit, and how they can bring us hope, and now we’re focusing more on the ‘God’s future’ side of things. The last two weeks we covered when God’s future is (already, but not yet), where God’s future is (on earth as it is in Heaven), so now we turn our focus to how.
How do we play our part in God’s future?
The long and short of it is: by practicing the way of Jesus together.
Common discipleship.
Which, interestingly enough, is what we’re all about at Spring Church: uncommon friendship and common discipleship. Practicing the way of Jesus together, in community, is participating in how Heaven is moving to earth now. In order to illustrate why this matters, let me tell you a story.
Picture this: it’s 2019, I’m graduating high school, and the gym is packed (within a year everything will shut down because of COVID, but that’s neither here nor there). I’m sitting in a chair on the gym floor with all my classmates, wearing a cap and gown, gummi bears and peanut butter crackers stuffed in my pockets because it’s lunchtime and the speeches aren’t ending anytime soon.
Up in the stands are my parents, grandparents, and brothers. Throughout the graduation ceremony they, like many other groups of friends and family, are cheering and clapping, generally having a great time. After a while, my dad noticed another father a few bleacher rows down. This father had balloons, bouquets of flowers, and was cheering louder and longer than anyone else. I mean, this guy was making a scene cheering on his kid with how proud he was of her.
The thing was, my dad didn’t recognize this other father. Now, for context, my dad and mom had been to a lot of my events. I played softball, sang in the choir, acted in the drama club, went to dances, spoke at events, and was overall pretty involved, and my parents showed up for a lot of it. That meant standing in the freezing rain at sport events, parent teacher nights, and not reacting when awkward high schoolers did awkward high schooler things.
It took my dad a while to pair this father with his daughter—as it turns out, the daughter was a casual friend of mine who I’d done some activities with. My dad recognized this girl’s mom, who’d shown up over the last four years—this mom had been with my parents in the freezing rain, at parent teacher conferences, and in the audience listening to a high schooler attempt to act with an English accent. But the father wasn’t there. My dad hadn’t seen him once. This father, who hadn’t been present for the games, the plays, or the concerts, was now at graduation with extravagant gifts and cheering louder than anyone.
Now, there’s nothing wrong with cheering loudly, but my dad was sad for this father.
Because he missed it.
Four years of spending time with his daughter, showing up for his daughter, and supporting her that didn’t happen. He missed the point of high school; it’s not about showing up for the graduation celebration, it’s about all the tired weeknights along the way, exhausted from work but hugging your kid after she sang a choral arrangement of “Bohemian Rhapsody” (I feel like I owe you one for that, mom and dad).
It’s a similar idea for Heaven. If we die and go to Heaven, without really engaging with God’s future while on earth, it’s a lot like cheering at graduation without ever participating in high school. We kinda missed the point.
What we do now, on this earth, matters greatly.
By practicing the way of Jesus, engaging with common discipleship, and walking along the faithful path, we’re participating in how Heaven is trying to move into earth right now.
We play our part in God’s future now.
Not in some indeterminate future time after we die, which is way over there, but here and now. We’re not waiting for graduation. We’re doing it now, loving each other in community, serving one another, and keeping our eyes and ears open for how the Spirit might be moving in the neighborhood. At Spring Church, this looks like talking to uncommon friends at the dinner table, going on walks, driving each other to doctor’s appointments, going to art shows, waiting in hospital rooms, grabbing lunch. Sometimes it’s fun—playing games where we throw rubber chicken darts at the ceiling—and sometimes it’s less fun, being honest with each other when it’s really hard. But it’s all important.
While I’m definitely going to cheer when I finally get to experience Heaven, it won’t be the first time I’ve felt hope, that breaking in of God’s kingdom. I’ll have felt it before, in my small groups, in church, on the sidewalk, volunteering, being honest with others, and following the faithful path wherever it may go.
Follow us on Instagram @springchurchbellingham and here on the blog for new stories every week!
Who in your life would you like to share this with?
About the author
Spring Church member, Emma McCoy (M.A.), has two poetry books: This Voice Has an Echo (2024) and In Case I Live Forever (2022). She’s been published in places like Across the Margin, Stirring Literary, and Thimble Mag. She reads for Chestnut Review and Whale Road Review. She’s probably working on her novel right now. Catch her on Substack: https://poetrybyemma.substack.com/