Sometimes on earth we catch glimpses of heaven. This afternoon I caught one, driving home from church. It was nothing extraordinary, just that the ordinary was warmer, purer, and brighter than usual today.
The breeze was warm and sweet. The tiny, baby leaves of April shimmered a fresh green on every branch as I drove the county roads. I passed a yard where an Amish couple sat in a porch swing, watching two picturesque little girls romp in the grass. Another mile down the way, horses and buggies were lined up beside a make-shift baseball diamond. Ladies in dresses and bonnets, and bearded men cheered and ran and clapped as the batter hit the ball. Two houses down a hand-painted sign was posted that read, "Old Hen For Sale." This is where I laughed. "Old Hen For Sale?" Who posts that in their yard?
From that point on, every lilac bush, every spirited horse, every dandelion-covered yard felt like a window to God's throne room. Maybe it's just because my kids were all strapped down and my mind wasn't pulled in fifteen directions; maybe because I knew I'd be dropping my kids at my in-laws' house tonight and going on a date with my husband for the first time in forever; but for a moment the whole world was bright and pure and right.
The glow lasted a moment longer as my girls stopped to pick dandelion bouquets in our front yard, but quickly faded when I pryed a sweaty, sleeping Toby from his car-seat, and carried the screaming, delirious child into the house. Then the chaos of snack-time and diaper changing swallowed me again, but for a moment today I caught a glimpse. Maybe you will too, if you keep your eyes open.