What is behind those trees? What is in those trees?
I stood by my orange pickup truck, and that was my thought. On Sunday morning I will teach on the New Jerusalem, and I do not know how to do this. I have been taking many notes on Revelation 21 which tells about this mysterium.
I like to explore, but I don’t take time to do it. Right now it seems a waste of time, but I enjoy it. That is not true; I do not enjoy it, not now at least.
As a teenager, I lived on an acreage outside of Omaha, Nebraska. Separating our neighborhood from the ubiquitous farmland was a dell which lives well in my memories.
It was darker in there. Brambles, paths, and distance from mom were there. Bisecting it was a meandering creek across which were long-fallen trees. These slippery bridges were footpaths of boyish pride; no “slippery when wet” sign was needed there. We knew the tree-bridges were slippery and relished that “danger.”
Stretched beyond our wonderland knoll are two more memories. The near one was a supposed bull. Somewhere it inhabited the adjoining field; was he imaginary? Maybe, for no memory can I find that yells, “Run!” The other was a far-off bridge in the middle of nowhere. We scatologically called it Fort Wizz.
While standing on my pickup’s running-board, I looked across three rows of cars, a prison campus road, a two-lane stretch of Gordon Highway, and finally the security fence of Fort Gordon. There is a stand of trees. What is behind those trees?
The New Earth will be like that forest. I can go into that forest and explore. Will I find a mysterious cave? What about a huge tree? A climbable tree? Could there be places of wonder that are not just child’s memories? I believed so. My orange pickup held up one who could see the beginning of a forest and hope off into it.