He planted eternity in our hearts

"Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end." Ecc 3:11

There’s a tension in life that begs “there must be something more than this, more than what I have right now...” Part of it comes from not living in the moment and seeing how truly incredible the gift of life is. And the other part comes from a place that is hardwired into every human being. There’s an eternal thread weaved through us all, a connection to another world, time and space...

Our Maker left His mark within us. We are flesh of his making, born of his infinite spirit. I feel this strange homesickness for a land I’ve never seen. I sense it beneath a sky burgeoning with stars, when the earth is warm beneath my feet, when the ocean rains it possessive love upon the shore; I hear it in the songs my kids sing and feel it within the kind help from a stranger... This eternal thread, hidden yet unavoidable, rides upon the melodies of life and sings into our hearts, making them yearn for something all at once familiar and strange.

Eternity is in the heart of every man and woman, the fingerprint of God, the way home...

Below is a beautiful poem written about this tension, I hope it touches your heart as it does ours...

When I was a child...

I once sat sobbing on the floor beside my mother's piano as she played and sang...

For there was in her singing, a shy yet solemn glory...

My smallness could not hold, and when I was asked why I was crying, I had no words for it...

I only shook my head, and went on crying

Why is it that music, at its most beautiful opens a wound in us?

An ache, a desolation;

Deep as a homesickness,

For some far-off. and half-forgotten country.

I've never understood why this is so...

But there's an ancient legend, From the other side of the world, That gives away the secret of this mysterious sorrow...

For centuries on centuries, We have been wandering;

But we were made for Paradise, As deer for the forest...

And when music comes to us, With its heavenly beauty, It brings us desolation...

For when we hear it, We half remember that lost native country...

We dimly remember the fields... Their fragrant windswept clover...

The bird songs in the orchards... The wild white violets in the moss by the transparent streams...

And shining at the heart of it, is the longed-for beauty... Of the One who waits for us... Who will always wait for us, in those radiant meadows...

Yet also came to live with us, And wanders where we wander.
Created By
Gatewaty Service
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www.gatewayservice.org

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