Day 40

Not without us

To start

Rest in silence. Prepare to receive the gift of God’s Word.

Pray

Yahweh, welcome me into your Word today. Let it be to me the rich soil it is. Plant me in it. Send my roots deep and wide.

Read

Read Hebrews 11:39-40.

• What do you think “approved through their faith” means?

  The Greek word for “through” is “διὰ,” “a primary preposition denoting the channel of an act.”¹ In other words, the channel of their approval was faith. What images come to mind when you hear the word “channel”?

• Who is the Hebrews writer talking about when he says, “God has provided something better for us”? Are we included in the “us”?

• The book of Hebrews was written more than 1900 years ago. That means we are as far away in time from him as he was from Joseph (that’s pre-Exodus, pre-Law, and pre-nation off Israel). Do you think he imagined Christians would still be persevering in faith, waiting for the Homeland, 1900 years in the future?

• What is the “something better” that God had provided?

• Meditate on the phrase “so that they would not be made perfect without us.” Close your eyes and ask God to show you a picture of what “perfection” looks like.

Hebrews 11:39-40 (CSB)

³⁹ All these were approved through their faith, but they did not receive what was promised, ⁴⁰ since God had provided something better for us, so that they would not be made perfect without us.

From JL

A few months ago I was sitting in prayer in my pantry.

[We turned the pantry into a dual purpose space recently—part food storage, part place to meet God. It’s small, but we put a rug down and added vibey lighting and I couldn’t be happier. Except when I’m fasting. When I’m fasting I rethink my choice to pray in the room with all the food. Prayer smells like pretzels now. ]

Anyway, I was praying. Every prayer looks a little different, but this prayer was especially different because I’d asked God to show me something. I’ve only done that a handful of times, and He’s only said yes twice. This was one of those times.

I asked God to show me a taste of what Heaven would be like, and then I sat quietly with my eyes shut waiting. Because I almost never think in pictures, I was shocked and delighted by the scene that spread out in front me:

It’s a neighborhood. Maybe in the south? Maybe in rural New York? I don’t know. It’s lush and green and the houses are beautiful with wide porches and generous picture windows. It’s summer. Evening. Fireflies blink.

I can tell people must live here—everything is so manicured. The lights are on in the homes. Through the windows I see lit candles, beautiful furnishings, rich, thick fabric drapes. This is an old money neighborhood. These people are inheritance people. You can tell by the paintings on the walls, the books on the shelves.

Suddenly I’m inside a house. I get the sense that it’s for me, but I haven’t moved in. No, that’s not it exactly… It’s like I have lived here, like I’ve lived here forever, like it’s always been my home, and also I don’t live here yet.

Everything is beautiful. Everything is perfect.

And then I walk into the dining room. And I gasp.

Or maybe that’s just what I feel like I must have done. because there, before me, is the biggest room I’ve ever seen. To my right, a wall of windows forty feet high overlooking…

Wait. No.

It’s a field. There’s a creek, trees, and little white lambs. I stare for a second. I know this view. I remember turning the corner on the hike in England’s Lake District and seeing it. I remember the way Justin fell to his knees at the beauty of it all. I remember how we said, Surely, this is what Heaven looks like.

I turn back to the room. To my left is a wall of paintings. It’s forty feet high, too, packed with beauty—landscapes, portraits, everything in gold frames. It’s like I’ve raided the Louvre.

I realize I’m standing at the head of the table, and that I cannot see where the table ends.

No one is sitting at this table, but it’s set. Ready. Waiting.

I have the sense that I will eat many meals here, that the room will swell with laughter, that I’ll drink wine and toast to life and tear bread from the loaf with my bare hands and pass it down two seats to Abraham who’ll pass it on to Peter who’s sitting beside my husband Justin being rowdy and holding court. I’ll look over at the apostle John and raise an eyebrow. He’ll smile a knowing smile. My daughter London will sit with David and his mighty men telling battle stories and slapping backs. My daughter Eve will sit with Eve, our mother, so proud of her namesake. I will lean back in my seat hungry and satisfied.

Is this room the place Jesus has been preparing for me?

If not this, something like it.

Something that only makes sense with everyone, the whole family, here in our seats.

Process

• As you’ve been dwelling in Hebrews 11 these past few weeks, have you found yourself feeling more connected to the bigger story of God’s faithful saints? What does it feel like to a part of something big and important? Do you usually see yourself as an essential part of something “being and important” (eternal, epic, etc.)? How would you live differently if you embraced your role in the family as a fellow child of God, conqueror of death, and bride of Christ alongside Moses, David, and Isaiah?

Pray

I find myself drawn to John’s Revelation today, especially his short prayer at the end. Jesus shows John the destiny of mankind in all its glory, and John prays,

Come, Lord Jesus!

The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all the saints.

Amen. Amen.

In the Comments

Have you ever had a moment when you felt especially connected to the great body of Christ (past, present, and future)? Describe the moment. What prompted your feeling of connection?

Godspeed,

JL

1. https://biblehub.com/greek/1223.htm