And they rode off into the sunrise......

Most mornings going to work, I catch a bus (don't worry- I always let them go again to roam free) but now and then I walk. It's a far enough distance to have to leave home early but more direct than the bus, so I'm not leaving too much earlier. A couple of months ago, Spring had started to take its job a little more seriously and stopped doing impressions of the Arctic. It also decided to switch the lights on a little earlier too, so that on the few mornings I decided to forgo the bus, my walk to work coincided with some rather lovely sunrises. I often pop my camera into my bag and once I saw the pinky-purple tinge in the sky, made sure I took it with me.

 Pretty, huh?








There's something very serene
 about those colours!

One particular view- this one.......

... made me think of that old cliche at the end of films where the hero rides off into the sunset. Except, of course, this is a sunrise.
My brain working the way it does- I ended up with the thought that, well, isn't it better to ride off into the sunrise? I mean, I get that the galloping off in silhouette towards the setting sun is symbolic of endings- the hero has overcome, the villain defeated, the girl won and all set to rights again- and the adventure has reached its finale. Nature's curtain is coming down on the scene.
All very lovely and I understand that they've gone off for 'happy ever after'- but sometimes that finale seems a little, well, final. Going off into the sunrise seems a much more appealing option at times. A sunrise is all about new beginnings- a new dawn, another day and all that. It holds potential- the general feeling that anything could be achieved. It's a very positive concept.Instead of the story ending- it's just beginning.

I sometimes worry that I may come across as cheesy radio God-Slot presenter (you know the type- '...and, as I looked at the undercooked sprouts on the plate before me, I realised that we're a bit like those sprouts- hard and unappealing but, you know, God still loves us....' ) but my thought process does tend to make those odd little connections.
At the risk of being a little Double- Gloucester, this was one of those moments. (It had to be, really, didn't it? Or I wouldn't be waffling about it here!)

Like millions of others, I'm happy to be on the Heaven-bound journey. I'm not going to be worried about where I'm seated at the Great Feast, or if my Mansion is detached, semi detached or terraced. I'll just be so damn glad to actually be there that I'll be perfectly contented to sit at the table near the kitchen door and inhabit a nice little bungalow just off the Heavenly High Street. So, maybe it sounds a little weird when I admit that sometimes....the thought of Heaven.... it scares me a bit. 

I thought I'd better whisper that in case I get walloped with a Bible. Maybe I'd better clarify.
I think that we tend to see Heaven as the Christian equivalent of riding off into the sunset. We've fought the good fight, shuffled off the mortal coil (nothing like mixing the Bible with a bit of Shakespeare), and have been told "Well done thou good and faithful servant".

What next?

Are we then going to look at each other awkwardly and say "Ermmm- well...this is nice, isn't it? So what shall we do now? Bit of an anti-climax, actually. Anyone have any games to keep us going for the rest of eternity?"
No, of course not- that's silly.
Maybe we'll all sit around on clouds looking outwardly serene, while inwardly, ignoring the fact that clouds actually give one a soggy bum.
That's just ridiculous.
Perhaps we'll be given a paper bag on entering Heaven- and understand why when we suddenly realise that eternity is a very...very....very....very....very......... long time and start hyperventilating in a panic at the enormity of it all.
I doubt it.

I know that it won't be any of those things. Truth be told though- I've absolutely no idea what it will be. My mind sometimes has a moment of mentally breathing into the metaphorical paper bag when it tries to grasp the idea of eternity in Heaven because, I suspect, I've seen it as the Sunset moment- the end of the journey and the full stop at the end of the sentence. I find it hard to reconcile that idea with the reality that after sunset comes night. Heaven won't be just an odd eternal night time. That much I do know.

After my morning walks to work, I'm now convinced that Heaven will be the sunrise to a brand new day- the start of the true journey- the beginning of the fulfillment of potential.It'll be the part where we say to God, "So....this is all going to be ok, right? Only, I'm a bit nervous" and He'll smile and say "My wonderful child, you have no idea! You're gonna LOVE this...."
And He'll take my hand and together we'll go off into the sunrise................