Sometimes, we think of heaven as a better version of here. And we regard Jesus as ourselves, only kinder, stronger, and generally better. We speak glibly, claiming that our sight of mystery’s visible edge equals understanding. Actually, the revelation He permits nearly drowns us. More would destroy us. He warned Moses, “You cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.” How then can He promise that the pure in heart will see Him? After death? Sure. But what about exhortations to seek His face now? Sounds like telling kids to play with matches in the fuel shed.

Fortunately, He provides a way where none exists. Each instance of God’s Word in our world joins us to His realm—a reality so different that our universe barely contains the idea. Open Word portals become conduits spewing out geysers of His nature and Kingdom, lighting up darkness and comforting broken hearts. He, Himself, is that Word convicting and cleansing, edifying and healing. His Word lives, feeding the dead with life until they breathe again. Through it, He brings hope, joy, peace and opens blind eyes. Even the deaf hear Him.

He calls us doorkeepers and entrusts us with keys. Reading turns locks, doing pulls doors open. The gushing flood transforms us until He returns. Then we shall be like Him and see Him as He is.

So, what hatches have you opened in your ship of life lately?

Exodus 33:20; Matthew 4:4; Psalm 27:8-9; Matthew 5:8; Isaiah 43:18-19; Ephesians 5:25-27; John 1:1-2; 1 John 3:2