“Tin Roof”

It might have been 20 feet long and 10 feet wide, but there’s really no way to know.  The eyes of a child see things as bigger than they are simply because they are just so small.

I didn’t love going there when I was growing up because I was the youngest and the only girl cousin, which meant I usually played alone or with my dog, Mitzi. That little cabin that my parents built with their own hands had a small bedroom, a bathroom, a tiny strip of a kitchen, a living room large enough for the 5 of us to sit around a table and play dominoes and the screened back porch that ran the length of the  cabin. I remember pouting as we would drive to the cabin for long weekends or vacations and how my parents would tell me I could make the best of it or I could be miserable. I usually made the most of it. As an adult, I realize how it made me. I breathed in the atmosphere of that tiny cabin more deeply than I realized and it has never left my heart. I can see Mamaw and Papaw’s larger cabin over the hill and down the road.  Smell the pine trees. Feel the mud between my fingers and toes. But, more than anything, I can hear the sounds from that screened-in porch.

The sounds and related feelings change depending on the season. In the summer, we would crawl into our bunkbeds with sun-kissed skin and wet hair, feel the stillness of the air, and hear the crickets singing as we fell asleep. The autumn brought the sound of leaves rustling as they fell, a cool breeze blowing across our faces and a harvest moon brightening up the entire yard like God had turned on a light .  Winter was cozy as Mom would pile stacks of handmade quilts on top of us and we would listen for owls in the distance. But, the most influential season to me was spring.  Waking up with the dawn to the sound of a bird chorus was magical.  The whistle of a cardinal punctuated by the steady cry of a  blue jay, and the underlying trill of a warbler worked its’ magic on my soul as the ever-present and characteristic call of a crow made me feel connected to a time and place in a way that I wouldn’t recognize until it was gone.  I often hear a crow on mornings when I sit on the front porch and it immediately takes me back to the moments we had as a family in that place.  Moments of simplicity.

Now I can see the depth and beauty of the times we spent there.  We were together and there were no distractions. Nature was our teacher and the lessons seemed endless. We had plenty of space, quiet and freedom among the pine trees and God used those days to create an appreciation and longing for subtle and beautiful encounters with Him, with nature, and with people. The most beautiful memory I have is falling asleep on the porch, under colorful quilts, as a spring rain splashed off the roof and onto the ground.

I wish I could more adequatly describe the sound and feeling that concert stirred in my young soul but the best I can do is to say it sounded like love and it felt like safety.  At times, it was melancholy to my emotional little soul.  The darkness of night and the sound of the rain sometimes made me feel like nature was crying, but the connection that I felt being so close to nature and the nearness of my family always caused the melancholy to melt into peace. Sometimes, hope. My young mind pictured the world being washed clean and the next day dawning with fresh, new and exciting adventures.  The rhythm of those raindrops on the roof sang me to sleep with a consistency that made me feel surrounded and protected by something larger than myself.

Those memories came flooding back a few days ago when I heard a new song called, “Tin Roof.” I wasn’t sure why it resonated so deeply in my heart because, honestly, the words initially seemed a little poetic without much real meaning.  Then I remembered those evenings of hearing rain on the roof of our little cabin.  The cabin that my parents built. It wasn’t fancy but it was purposeful and life-changing.  That’s where I learned about setting aside time for peace, beauty, and family. That’s where Daddy told us stories as we fell asleep. That’s where  I was a princess with her own rock “throne” overlooking  the lake. Nothing could break the spell of love that ruled in that little cabin and nothing could break the spell of peace in that 10 X 20  foot sanctuary as the rain would fall.   

I think  heaven is more like that than we realize. More than mansions, streets of gold, and constant worship. I think it’s much more than that.  Scripture says God will make all things new.  A new heaven and a new Earth where God’s people will rule and reign with him. It sounds like the completion of what he had planned from the very beginning… coming to dwell in his creation with His children.  A perfect creation similar to what we experience in our life but far surpassing that.  Seasons, beauty, diversity, and adventure – minus the sin and pain that scars the world as we know it.  A perfect creation full of worship that is far more than singing but flows from love, gratitude, and belonging.  Jesus’ mission was to complete God’s work and to redeem and restore everything that had been lost.  He wasn’t making something completely different.  He was, and is, perfecting all that God had already done. Every beautiful, loving, good and pure thing in this life is a signpost pointing us to the truth of what will be. To the reality of the Kingdom of Heaven. It’s all meant to give us a hunger for more because we are created for more. We are destined for more.

In The Last Battle, CS Lewis says this: “But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at least they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”

So, what if heaven really is more than we’ve ever imagined? If every chapter is better than the one before?   What if it’s peace, wholeness, joy, and truth but also excitement, beauty, purpose, purity, and completeness?  I think it will be all of that and then some.  But, at a certain level, I think it will be as simple and comforting as my memory of falling asleep while listening to Daddy sing hymns with rain falling on the roof.  It will be perfect, calm, and complete. It will be love.

It will be home.

That’s the ticket, as my Daddy would say.  Heaven is home.  The mansions, streets of gold, and heavenly angels may be impressive, but the beauty of Heaven is found in the person of Jesus and  in knowing that we are finally under the same roof as the one who has made us whole.  That will be more than I can imagine and plenty more than enough.

Song: “Tin Roof” Chris Tomlin and Blessing Offor