looks like you're waiting for something

for memorial day this past weekend, my dad's side of the family had a work day at our house. i should tell you--our house is big and old and falling apart. we have a hard time keeping on top of it. last year when i got back from ireland, there were huge chunks of concrete that had been thrown into a ditch in our backyard. later, just before winter set in, someone anonymously left a load of rocky, clay-ey dirt on top of the concrete. all through the rainy philadelphia winter, we had a mud hole in our backyard. it was depressing.

so my aunts and uncles and cousins came over on monday and we broke up the dirt, evened it out, replanted some flowers to prevent erosion and spread grass seed. (my uncle mark was a farmer and has the most amazing grass sowing technique i've ever seen. it's like watching ballet.)

that was monday. this is thursday. but i still have the happy glow of a job well-done--of something that was ugly being made beautiful. i'm sitting on my porch swing now, admiring our work. every morning i get up and look out the window. i can't wait until the new grass grows in and we have a lovely, green yard.

we're also in the middle of remodeling our downstairs bathroom. the floor had always been a little dodgy and one morning my dad decided to fix it. that night the entire bathroom had been gutted. my dad had always thought it was ugly. now there's a solid, beautifully tiled floor. the walls are straight and painted in this purple color that never would have gotten there if my mom hadn't found it on sale. it's still not done, but i walk in sometimes just to appreciate the solid craftsmanship and restorative beauty.

yesterday at the mission, we read revelation 21 and 22. a new heaven and a new earth. paul cried as he read it, and i teared up as i reread it this morning. my heart aches to see creation restored. projects like the backyard and the bathroom pull at something in me--it's something that was old, dirty, ugly and broken being made new, whole, clean and beautiful.

i was talking to my friend, lara the other night. she told me people keep telling her they think there's something big in her future. it's kind of like what the oracle tells neo--it looks like you're waiiting for something. i feel that, too--the expectation of huge things to come. lara wondered if that isn't just what hope is--opening yourself up to the reality that this isn't all we were created for. we were created for a new creation. we're waiting for the Kingdom to come. we live in an atmosphere of expectation--of a hope that doesn't disappoint; of a Lamb who is worthy; of a King who is victorious; of a bridegroom coming for his bride.

even so, come Lord Jesus.