translates that to mean that real life will begin when I get that new car, when I finish putting my kids through college, when I get that new job, or when I reach retirement. Then I can really live.
Hastings points out that it doesn't work that way. When we arrive at that destination, we don't find the fulfillment we had so longed for and wanted. Then Hastings says this: "The true joy of life is in the journey! So relish the moment!"
He urges us to stop counting the miles and pacing the aisles and instead to begin seeing each day as a precious gift from God. Rejoice in it and be thankful for it. Celebrate life and see the miracles of God all around us. Live life to the full as we go along. The station will come soon enough.
Is Robert J. Hastings right? What do you think? Is it possible that we get so caught up in our dream of a "happy ending" that we miss the joy of the journey? Could it be that we sometimes look so intently for some "promised land" tucked away in the distant future that we become amazingly blind to what we already have at our fingertips? Let's think about this together for a few moments. Very simply, I want to lay a few ideas before you. Here is idea number one.
First, the Truth Is That We All Have Known Some Disappointment, Some Frustration, Some Uncompleted Task, Some Unhappy Ending
All of us have known the experience of wanting some promised land and yet never quite getting there. Let me show you what I mean.
Remember Abraham Lincoln. He led the nation through terrible conflict. He brought the American Civil War to an end. He was ready to lead our nation in peace, "with malice toward none and charity for all." But it did not turn out that way. He went to Ford's Theatre in Washington D.C. one night and was assassinated. So quickly, so harshly, so abruptly, so tragically, it was over for him. He was so near the promised land, but he only "glimpsed it from afar."
Some years ago, a young left-handed pitcher broke into the major leagues of professional baseball. He was so talented that he quickly made headlines with his scorching fastball. He became an all-star in his rookie season and was destined to become one of the greatest pitchers of all time. However, early in his career, during the off-season, he slipped while mowing his lawn, barefooted. His foot went under the mower and was severely cut. He underwent surgery, and his foot healed. Somehow, the accident affected his stride, and Herb Score's fastball was never the same. In a few short months, he realized that he could not make a comeback, and he dropped out of baseball while still in his early twenties. He was so near the promised land, but he only glimpsed it from afar.
Several months ago, I was asked to conduct the funeral service of a young teacher who had died after just a few years of teaching. His mother was brokenhearted, and she expressed what many must have felt. "It's such a shame! He spent all those years getting ready to do what he wanted more than anything. He wanted to teach, to challenge young minds and influence their lives for good. And now this!" she said. "And now this!"
Or think of the man who dreamed for years of his retirement. All those things he wanted to do and share with his wife, all those places to visit, trips to make, sights to see—but then, when he retired, his wife was stricken with an illness and was slowly wasting away before his very eyes. He, too, could have said it: "All those big dreams, and now this!"
Well, all of this brings us to one of the most moving stories in all the Bible: the story of Moses. Remember Moses. Remember how abruptly his story ends. For forty years, he grappled with a cantankerous people. For forty years, he wandered with them in the wilderness. For forty years, he struggled to hold them in line. For forty years, he was a pilgrim and a sojourner. For forty years, he slept in a nomad's tent under the stars and lived off the land. All to one end: that he might reach the Promised Land! For forty years, he had dreamed of it. But then Moses died before they got there; a stone's throw short of his goal and lifelong dream, and he died!
Does this seem unfair? Was it a tragedy? Was Moses' life a failure? Or is it possible that though Moses never reached the land physically, he had been there in his heart and mind and soul all along? You see, the truth is that Moses had possessed the promised land all along. He had it in his heart. He had seen it, felt it, dreamed it, lived it, loved it from day one. One ancient legend that has emerged out of this poignant story shows Moses protesting at first. But in the legend, God says to him, "Come on now, Moses. Why must you cross over into the Promised Land? You've always had it in your heart. Your people never have. Let them enter. You've been there long enough. Now it is time for you to come home and be with me."
This is a very important lesson to learn, isn't it? That the real promised lands are within us. We don't have to wait. We can claim the promised land now. We can have heaven now. Isn't that great? We don't have to wait until we die. Heaven can begin for us now. This is the first idea. It is a fact that in this life we will experience disappointment and have unreached goals. But the good news is that God is with us! This is idea number one.
Second, Happy Endings Are Fine, I'm Sure, but Don't Forget That There Is Great Joy in the Journey
When we spend all our time thinking of and longing for "the sweet by and by," we may miss "the joy of the here and nigh." Let me ask you something. What is failure, anyway? How would you define it? Most of us are easily tempted to define failure as not arriving where we intended to arrive, not achieving our goals, not meeting our objectives. Well, I'm all in favor of setting goals and having objectives and working toward them. But I certainly don't agree with the tough football coach who said, "Show me a good loser, and I'll show you a loser!"
Come on, now! What about Moses? Moses did not reach his goal. He meant to enter the Promised Land, but he didn't get there. But does that make him a failure? I should say not! What about all those years of commitment and obedience and faithfulness? What about that motley crew of renegade people that he shaped into the servant people of God? What about the impact of his life on human history? Indeed, on your life and mine? What about the loyalty and devotion and character he built? What about the Ten Commandments he brought down from Mount Sinai? His victory was in the journey!
The author Robert Louis Stevenson had an untimely death. He was only forty-four years old when he died. Some would insist that his journey was too brief—but not Stevenson. He would not say that! He would not complain! He never lost hope. He never gave up. He never quit on life. He never became bitter. Later, facing imminent death, he asked his friends to place on his tombstone these words: "Gladly did I live, and gladly die, and I laid me down with a will."
The journey is what counts. When you look at Moses and what happened to him, the point is driven home powerfully. The bigger part of his story was the traveling—not the arriving. So the lesson for us is clear: Enjoy the journey! Smell the roses! Celebrate the present. Live in the now moment. Sow the seeds of God's love everywhere you go. Feel God's spirit within you. Claim heaven now—today— and trust God for tomorrow, trust God for the ending.
Third and Finally, Nothing That Is Really Great and Important Is Ever Finished in One Generation
Each person dies with something left undone. We never do all we wanted to do. We never do all we intended to do. We never see all we hoped to see. We never become all we dreamed of becoming. Maybe that's what John Wesley meant when he said, "We are going on to perfection." The journey is our home. The joy is in the pilgrimage. So we have to learn the hard lessons of patience and trust. We must do what we can and then trust other people and God to see that what we have begun will be continued. We do our best and trust God for the rest.
There is a wonderful film entitled The Lucky Star (1980). It's about a thirteen-year-old boy who is left
