A few days ago I was sitting at the piano, thumbing through an old hymnal and playing songs, considering possibilities to arrange for elementary band when I came across this hymn whose title is shown as this blog title. There is one phrase in the hymn whose words prompt a concept that gave me pause as Imeditated on its meaning. I've been thinking about blogging its impression on me for a week now but haven't had time. Today, I'm making time, and dedicating it to a John I know who could use such a hope on this very day. Here is the lyric that caught my eye in reference to the city of Jerusalem in the age to come when it attains that mystical status:
"...wherein whose four walls shall come no night, nor need, nor pain,
and where the tears are wiped from eyes that shall not weep again."
I paused at this vision in my mind: my hand wiping tears from my cheek with the full-knowledge that I would never cry tears of grief again. Never. My cheek would always be dry of tears that sprang from such a pain-prompt. What a concept.
The idea of a future of bliss is often elusive because of its abstractness, its remoteness from our present state of being. No matter what our life circumstances, we all find moments when tears of grief are the perfect response. But what a beautiful detail is in this hymn; a detail given the power to make that elusive bliss an easy reach. May the John I know and all those dear to him be able to embrace such a hope for their own futures.
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