"At the heart of reality there is a room. At the heart of reality there is a heart beating life into all that lives and dies." (F. Buechner "Listening to Your Life" p. 83)
One of my favorite Gospel stories is Jesus' promise that in his Father's house there are many dwelling places. I love that image of heaven and often hold it out for others to contemplate when preaching at funerals. I invite folks to picture that room for their beloved. What is in it? What brought that person joy in this world? What truly reflected who they were? And how would you know you were in their room?
On our earthly pilgrimage we have literal rooms that are ours. As a child my bedroom was my room. I didn't have to share it. The walls were mine to decorate. The furniture was me. What would you have seen? Posters of rock groups. There was a desk because I was always somewhat of a good student. There was a stereo to play the music of the groups whose posters you would have noticed.
I don't really have a room of my own now. I do know folks who have "man caves." And maybe that would be cool.
But when I think of what I would want in a room of my own now.... a comfortable chair with a good lamp by which to read. A radio to listen to the ball game. A book shelf, and a refrigerator. Pictures of people who are important to me. And yet even with all those things, the room would still not be that flashy, if it were truly to reflect me.
Blessings,
Ed
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