Shalom

Upstairs, the boys are experimenting with their interactive computer game, new from Future Shop. Enthusiasm and the excitement of discovery pour out of their bedroom and permeate the whole house, as they share and take turns. Our littlest daughter is enjoying her ducky in the bubble bath, to the sounds of the latest Veggie Tales tape. We can just glimpse her blonde head above the bathtub's rim from where we sit on the couch, while she smiles and sings along. Our elder daughter's computer is humming, as her creative mind rounds out an essay for history class. A waft of roast beef still hangs in the air from Saturday night dinner, as we sit silently for once and just watch the orange flames in the woodstove.

There seems to be a glow in the room, not just from the fire, but a glow of peace, of rightness, of wholeness, of the way things should be almost of holiness. Surely this is peace, justice, shalom lived out, a foretaste of heaven, life as God intended.

But soon sharp words are exchanged upstairs, as younger son short-circuits the computer game. The Veggie Tales tape has run its course, and daughter cries for towels and pajamas. The older girl drowns out the sounds by cranking up her boom box to the highest possible decibel, and loud crooning about lost love spills down the stairs. The aroma of beef has vanished, and the fire is dying.

Shalom some day, it will last forever. Jesus promised, "I am going to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to be with Me" (John 14:2-3).

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