About once every month, I get the opportunity to play bass guitar at our new church, Living Waters. This past Sunday, for the special music we played a little number named “Deep (Way Down)” by the group Selah. It’s a short, but fun little gospel number. We had fun with it, taking the opportunity to play a little louder and with more enthusiasm. Even the practices were fun (if not exhausting). The congregation seemed to enter into it as well. I heard from several people that they enjoyed it, and remarked about how much fun the band seemed to be having.

I reflected on the joy that we felt during that song. It was even decided to extend it a little bit (going through the chorus one more time). As humans, when we encounter joy like that, it’s natural to want to extend it a little bit longer, and make it last. We look back on those time, wishing we could revisit them, or even make plans to try to recreate it. The natural person would shrug and say that we need bad times to enjoy the fun times more, to appreciate them.

I came to a different conclusion. What we were experiencing this past Sunday-pure, innocent joy-is what we were made for all of the time. We, as human beings, were designed for it. Otherwise, we would not long for it intensely. That must have been when Adam and Eve experienced before the fall in the garden, only all the time. And that’s what we have to look forward to in Heaven. Pure, uninterrupted joy in the presence of our God and King. And a thought like that makes me long for it all the more.

It’s amazing the difference that a little experience makes.

Actually, a lot of experience. After a month of painting our house (for those who haven’t known or haven’t been paying attention, I mean the exterior, not interior), I’m much less bothered by getting up on a ladder, or on our roof, to address house issues. I wouldn’t call myself fearless, but definitely much less bothered.

A few years ago, a small water stain appeared on the ceiling of our living room/dining room. The stain was by a wall, but the leak was farther up on the roof, at a vent. A local handyman diagnosed the issue, and recommended that instead of paying him, I get some sealant and caulk around the vent. The whole procedure was performed without incident, but it was a learning experience for me.

Fast forward about five years, and we get another water stain (same room, slightly different spot). I know exactly what to do. While I’m sealing the vent edges, I can’t help but think about how that’s how things exist in this world; stuff wears out. It breaks, cracks, yellows, stains, dries out, molds, wears out or just starts looking old. Sometimes we get excited about the prospect of replacing something worn out with something new (see: Tom plus computer equipment), other times we fret, fume and curse about having to deal with with the huge expense or bother (see: Tom and plumbing). As much as we might try to avoid it, stuff doesn’t last in this world.

In Matthew 6:19-21, Jesus said:
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart is also.

For those who have trusted in Jesus Christ as their savior, they will someday exist in a place where entropy has no hold on their ecology. Things will not break down, grow stale or wear out. Whatever is built will last.

I love to build things. I started with Lego’s, moved to an erector set. Now, typically, I build with software. So, I have an appreciation for well-engineered creations. However, as cool that brand-new Volkswagen may look, someday it will wear out. If I truly believed that, I might approach how I spend my money and my time very differently.