Thursday, August 2, 2012

I can only imagine...

The other night Bobby and I had the privilege of opening up for the band Mercy Me.  We shared our testimony along with a pitcher from the Astros and his wife Rachel.  This picture was taken with the band, standing in the midst of sunflower seeds and spit in the Astros dug out!  I was so honored to serve alongside this band because they happen to be the authors of my all-time favorite song; I Can Only Imagine. 

 I don't know what it is about this song, but every time I hear it I come undone. As they sang to this  huge crowd gathered at the ballpark we were all on our feet; eyes closed, tears streaming down our cheeks, arms raised to heaven as if we could touch its glory through the words we were echoing.  I looked at Bobby, our daughter Ally, and my sweet friend Ronda when the last notes of the song came to an end, and we couldn't speak.  There are moments when only tears express the emotion of the heart, and this was one of them. 

This song is so anointed that it seems to breathe hope at funerals, Sunday gatherings, and youth rallies as it speaks to the first moments we will see Jesus face to face in heaven.  Does anyone dare sing about that?  Do we even try to imagine that scene?  Although I've been told about heaven since I was small, it's still so mysterious and unknown-- yet when Mercy Me describes it; it's strangely comforting. 

I can only imagine, what it will be like--when I walk, by your side.
I can only imagine, what my eyes will see--when Your face is before me.
Surrounded by your glory, what will my heart feel? Will I dance for you Jesus, or in awe of You be still? 
Will I stand in your presence, or to my knees will I fall, will I sing Hallelujah...will I be able to speak at all?  I can only imagine...I can only imagine...

When I was a young believer I remember bragging to someone that when I saw Jesus in heaven I would high-five Him and say "My BFF, Jesus, You're the man!"  This mature lover of God humbly replied "It might be hard to high-five if you're flat on your face before Him."  That was the first time I remember feeling completely undone by the thought of seeing Jesus face to face.  I can only imagine...

Last week I was in a recording studio for two days as we recorded the audio version of my book Spirit Hunger.  Something weird happened to me as I came to certain part of the book, a book that I'm obviously acquainted with.  When I began to read a section that described my father, I had to stop the recording and gather myself as tears fell like rainfall against the pavement.  I was describing the state of his limp legs after living for 38 years as a paralyzed man.  I hadn't seen his legs undressed until a few days before his death.  They were covered in sores, oozing puss, and mere bones with a thin strip of skin around them.  I practically gasped when the nurse pulled back his sheets to shift his position in the bed.  Ever since his car accident when I was young I felt distanced from my dad.  He went into a protective shell to somehow survive his new life; once a bank president, now a quadriplegic.  Strangely, I've felt more drawn to my dad since his death than I did during his life. I don't remember ever crying over him when I was in my late teens or young adulthood, and now, every time I talk about him I cry.  I think the words Mercy Me captured in their song are the reason why.

When I picture heaven one of the scenes I relish most is seeing my dad dance before Jesus on legs that were once twisted, pussing, and useless.  That thought alone makes me bow in reverence to the one I call Lord.  But then I picture another scene.  I see me dancing with my dad and Jesus.  A holy concert of grace and abandon as we turn and glide with Jesus leading the dance.  A former disco dance teacher, I like to get everyone in a line and turn out steps in unison, but Jesus does it differently.  He likes to dance uniquely with each dance partner He holds. 

I have no idea what heaven will be like, but I do know this, it will be greater and wilder than anything we can conjure.  Sometimes I'm shocked by how tightly we hold onto life here...forgetting that a greater dance floor awaits us in heaven.
I can only imagine....I can only imagine...

Blessings!
Gari



The words to this verse showered me

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