Yet Another Theological Fantasy
by Duncan Cary Palmer
"So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed."
- Jesus -
Thank God, free at last... ~ Photo courtesy of Naveen Chandra
I'm still asleep when the extemporaneous improvisation of a songbird floats through the window, melding with and drawing me out of the sweetest of dreams about flying. Eyes still closed, pastel morning light penetrates my eyelids. I flutter gently to consciousness, cocooned against the cool morning air by a featherlight down quilt.
"Saturday!"
My heart sings to me, insisting this must be another wonderful Saturday morning, an utterly carefree day of endless, glorious possibilities rather than anything pressing.
Then my brain kicks into gear, and, overwhelmed with gratitude, I remember where I am.
I've only been here for about a year now, but let me tell you; getting used to the reality of The Glory is no easy task. So far, every morning has been like this, and I absolutely love it. Not only am I without a care in the world, never again will I need be concerned that the other shoe is about to drop.
Emerging from beneath my comforter, I wrap myself in a fluffy robe to combat the chill. What a spectacular morning! I lean out the window and breathe deeply. The stark visual majesty of the alpine setting conspires with the fragrance of pine and wild flowers, filling my senses.
Youthful memories have drawn me back to the foothills of the once again pristine alps surrounding the city of Innsbruck, and today I'm going hiking with my dad.
Despite the prevailing pre-Restoration opinion—Ha! So much for smart-ass theologians!—life on a renewed Earth is a whole lot like the very best of life as we used to know it. Just minus every imaginable negative element, aspect, and influence. Though I do have some questions about my immediate future...
But my appetite and the tantalizing smell of gourmet coffee wafting in from the hall spurs me into motion. In less than two minutes, I'm standing before a floor length mirror admiring my new outfit of grey lederhosen, forest green knee socks, hiking boots, and a matching green alpine hat, replete with bluejay feather jauntily projecting from the headband.
I leave the door ajar for the cleaning staff and head toward the staircase. The Gasthaus doors have no locks; none are needed because theft, one of the former "big ten," is non-existent in a world of universal abundance.
I'd be tempted to slide down the curving bannister were it not for a traditional carved gargoyle perched on the baluster at the bottom. Leisurely descending the long Bavarian staircase, I have a few moments to contemplate days to come.
My sojourn on the New Earth has thus far been a relaxing time of getting oriented. I have yet to do a lick of work. I've been traveling, getting in touch with old friends and family, and trying to wrap my head around the concept of an ideal universe, now perfected in every way. Much as I used to long for Heaven on Earth to commence, changes for the better are so radical, anyone would struggle a bit to adapt.
Innsbruck Foothills ~ Photo courtesy of Sabrina Wendl
I spot Dad at a table across the room and wave. After grabbing a continental breakfast of apfelradln and a steaming cup of coffee, I walk over and take my seat.
And you're right, I did not "pay." Here, we luxuriate in a gift economy, each of us striving to outdo the other in generosity, every need abundantly met.
"Morning, Dad."
"Ready for a foothill hike?"
"I will be once I get these pastries and coffee inside me."
Rich, thick goat cream takes the sharp edge off the uber dark roast Columbian coffee, and I savor the way it complements my delightfully sweet baker's confection. I'm also enjoying never again having to worry about my waistline.
"Do you remember the hike we took up here when you were a teenager?"
"I sure do, Dad. I don't think I appreciated hiking as much then as I do now, and that's one of the reasons I asked you for this do-over."
A pleasant breakfast venue. ~ Photo courtesy of Rita E.
We both fall silent, enjoying the moment. Though this is without a doubt my father, as I look across the table, he appears much as I remember him when I was a child; a strong and robust young man. I've had to become reaccustomed to my own face in the mirror as well; gone, the receding hairline; the former bleached grey replaced by my original dark brown; wrinkles and age spots vanished, and—Hallelujah!—no more eyeglasses or bad teeth.
But I feel the need, the urge, to get out of "vacation mode." Not that I have to, nor that the feeling will at all detract from the rest of my hiking visit with Dad. But in the back of my thinking, I am jonesing for some meaningful work.
~To Be Continued...~
CLICK Here for Part II of 'Morning Glory!'
Colorful Innsbruck ~ Photo courtesy of Simon Reichmann
