As hard as it is for me to imagine a heaven in which the flowers don't grow, there's a small part of me that's coming to terms with the idea. And for this simple reason:
Sometimes, for the briefest of moments, I get a glimpse of my completed self.
See, it's hard to imagine a heaven where the flowers don't grow when I'm not comfortable with the idea that I might never grow, that I might always be just how I am. That my heart wouldn't change any more. That my love wouldn't grow deeper. That I am just as I am and that this is all I could ever be. It's not a place I'm comfortable with; I always want to draw nearer to God.
But there are times when God is so near, I don't think it would be possible. There are times when my heart beats in sync with His, and I can feel it. There are moments, however fleeting, that I breathe differently, maybe even just one breath, because I know I've touched something holy in my life - and that something holy might be me. There are times I just know, This is what God created me for.
And in those times? In those times, I could live like that forever without a second thought. Without blinking, I could stare into eternity with confidence, comfortable with the idea that this is who I might be. Forever. Until that next breath catches in my throat, I feel like I could breathe like this forever.
Thinking about this, I think...I think I could appreciate a flower that's done growing, a flower that doesn't have to grow. I think I could appreciate its fragile, yet steady petals. I think I could look at heaven stretched out before me as a field in full bloom and understand, even appreciate, the perfection in it. I think it's possible, in a world in which I feel complete, that I could appreciate the completeness in all Creation.
It's still a hard thing to think about, primarily because completeness is not a confidence I live in very often. But I still think it's possible.
I think it's possible that the flowers are beautiful even when we didn't see them bud. I think it's possible that the trees bear their fruit in season, and it's always ripe for picking. Remember when Jesus cursed the fig tree for not having figs? It's because He came from a realm of completeness where there were always figs. There are always going to be figs in heaven! I think it's possible that the clouds come together and fall apart and look like nothing in particular and everything in heaven all at once. I think it's possible that...
I think it's possible that one day, we look at each other and don't wish something was different, don't have an idea how we'd make each other better. Because we'll all be perfected. We'll be completely who we were meant to be, and I think we'll take each other's breath away. I think I'll look at you in complete awe, and I think you'll look at me the same way. All the little things we didn't understand about each other in this life will be clear in our completeness.
I think it's possible. Because every now and then, for the briefest of moments, I get a glimpse of my completed self.