Like most children, mine love going to the park. They enjoy being outdoors and roaming free. They have a great time climbing and sliding. But most of all, they love the swings.
Recently, I took them to a new (to us) park. They had their choice of novel play equipment to conquer, an open field to run around in, or trees to climb. They ignored it all and headed straight for the swings.
I can understand why. After all, what’s not to love about swinging? When you swing, you get to soar higher than you can on your own. You swoosh through the air with the freedom of flying. You experience adrenaline and excitement. You savor the thrill of soaring up, up, up until all you can see is blue sky. You have to swoop back down, but you don’t mind, because you know that in a minute, you’ll fly again. Your grin is huge, your joy boundless.
“Faster! Faster!” you beg, and your mother or father pushes you higher until you are breathless with laughter. The ride is wild and crazy and endless.
Until…it ends. Maybe that’s the only thing that’s not to love about swinging. Because all too soon, your mom or dad says, “It’s time to go home.” You have to slow down and drag your feet in the dirt until your swing stops. “Please just a little longer?” you beg. But the answer is no. You get off and trudge to the car, leaving bliss behind, and you go home with your mother or father.
The Christian life, too, is a wild, joyous ride. You start out small, before the pushes really get you going. With help, you get to where you are pumping your legs with all your might and swinging in extended, graceful arcs. Rocketing upwards brings such joy that you almost forget you ever have to come down.
But unlike a park swing, plummeting downward in life is usually painful. You hope it lasts only an instant, but sometimes, an instant turns into an eon. You slow down, and you don’t have the strength in yourself to get going again. You know it’s going to take someone to push you, to do for you what you can’t do for yourself. Why is it taking so long? you wonder. Why do I have to stay down here, when I want to be up there?
But then, just before forever, you realize that you’re swinging again. Cautiously, you pump your legs, and you find yourself swinging higher. You feel the pushes at your back, you pump harder, and before you know it, you’re once again experiencing the thrill of soaring into the sky. Maybe it’s a different kind of thrill now. Maybe you appreciate it even more, because you know what it’s like to hang motionless at the bottom of the arc. Maybe now, instead of bringing giggles to your lips, the thrill brings profound joy to your soul.
And then, just like swinging at a park, one day, the wild ride is over. You descend from your arc, and you know that it was the last time. Your swing begins to slow, because the pushes aren’t coming anymore. You hear the words from behind you: It’s time to go.
Scuff. Scuff. You drag your shoes in the dirt, and slowly, the scuffs get closer together. Finally, your swing stops. Your ride is over. You loosen your hands from the chains. As you get off, you stretch out your hand. Your Father takes it. And you go home with your Father.
Only this time, you don’t leave bliss behind. This time, you get to enter into a bliss more wondrous than you’ve ever imagined. The ecstasy of being home makes the joyous ride on the swings pale in comparison.
Because the swings were never your home. Even when your ride was at its height, you weren’t home. You had the privilege and pleasure of enjoying the ride for awhile. But it was never the true ride. It wasn’t the ride you were made for.
Precious friend, don’t get so caught up in the dips and swoops of swinging that they become everything to you. They are nothing more than how you pass the time until you get to go home. Someday, the One standing behind you and urging you onward and upward is going to stand in front of you. You’ll get to see His face for the first time. And then your ride begins…when you get off the swings and go Home.
Revelation 21:3b-4—God himself will be with them and be their God. There will be no more death, or mourning, or crying, or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.
2 Peter 3:13—But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness.