Heaven on a String

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him.”

Romans 15:13

The town of Rogers City, where I live, is getting geared up for next week’s Nautical Festival. I was eager to sign up to work in our church’s booth (come try our pulled pork sandwiches!). I love doing that kind of thing. It’s a great opportunity for people-watching.

A few years ago, before we moved to Michigan, I spent some time tending a table at small-town summer festival. Several other church members and I gave away helium balloons tied to clothespins (which children could then clip to their clothing) on which were written, “Jesus lifts me up!” and the church name.

It was fun to watch people’s reactions as they passed our table. The adults either slid by, uninterested and hoping to escape notice, or eyed the candy bowl while trying to figure out how to snag one of the butterscotch rounds without seeming greedy.

The littlest children, though, had eyes only for the balloons. They’d spot them from across the parking lot and move slowly towards us, eyes glued to the floating blobs of color, entranced but timid. Could they have a balloon? Was it really all right? They’d glance at their mothers and tuck their chins away from me with shy uncertainty, but finally point to their favorite color and watch with ready hand as I untangled the chosen one from its brothers.

One little fellow chose a big red balloon and waited eagerly for his prize. When I reached to give it to him, however, his mother took the string before his outstretched hands could grasp it. Obviously worried that the balloon would be caught up in the light breeze and carried away, she turned him around and clothespinned it to the back pocket of his jean shorts.

When she stepped back, he looked around, puzzled. Clearly he was wondering where his balloon had gone. The mother gave the string a pull so he could feel that it was clipped to his shorts. He glanced behind him. In a flash his face went from concerned to elated, a brilliant, slightly crooked smile adding more warmth to the afternoon. He walked a few steps and felt the string tug reassuringly at his rear, then took hold of his mother’s hand and bounced away.

The balloon was his, and he was joyful.

…………….

I know that as a Christian I ought to be joyful. But sometimes I lose sight of where that joy ought to come from. Where is the elusive spiritual glow, I want to know, when the cat throws up in the living room and I have to clean it up for the third time in a week?

I know I’m going to heaven when I die because of what Jesus did for me – of that I am certain. But hopefully I won’t be dying for a good long time. So what’s the importance, today, of my salvation? What is it about my upcoming trip through the pearly gates that is supposed to be giving me joy in my day-to-day routine?

I think back to that sweet boy with the red balloon clipped to his backside. He didn’t do anything with his balloon. He didn’t play with it, didn’t tug at it, didn’t even look at it. He just knew it was there. And with that knowledge came peace, and with peace came joy.

I’ve got heaven on a string. It’s been pinned onto me by my Father, so I don’t have to worry about it being blown away by life’s winds. It’s there, trailing behind, hovering above, staying near. I’m headed to heaven – and that does mean something for today. It means that I am accepted and embraced by my Maker. It means that when I beat myself up for my faults and failings, I am fully forgiven by One who knows the worst in me and cares about me anyway. It means that when God looks down at the masses of people on earth He sees the red mark of salvation floating over my head and says, “Oh, yes, there’s My daughter – she’s Mine, and I love her.”

There are still hairballs on the carpet, and no heavenly balloon is going to make them go away. But as I go about my tasks, maybe I can remember the string clipped to my back pocket, and know that in all things, at all times, heaven is mine. And that means that the joy of being loved can be mine as well.

First printed in the Alpena News, July 27, 2013