Our first two children were girls. When they were very young, they were quite sure they wanted to live in our home forever. Leaving sounded awful. They would sometimes ask, “When I grow up, can I still live here with you and Mommy?” It was no use trying to tell them that the day would come when they would want to leave. Not that home isn’t wonderful, but the day would come when they would be grown-up.

Perhaps they would fall in love and want to have their own home and family. It wasn’t any use telling them such things, because they simply could not believe that there would ever be a man in their life whom they would think of as bigger or smarter or more handsome (they were very small) or whom they could love as much as they loved their daddy. They just couldn’t believe it. And frankly, it sounded a little far-fetched to me.

In spite of that, I knew that the day would come-not today, not tomorrow, but someday-when they would be all grown-up. Somewhere, somehow, the day would come when they would see … him. Then they would understand. What they saw “through a glass, darkly,” they would then see “face to face.” And my little girl would come to me and say in the way grownup girls do, “Daddy, he is my destiny. I was meant for him. And I must be with him. I can’t imagine life without him.” Being a very wise daddy, then, if the man is good enough and kind enough, and if my daughter is old enough (say, forty-five), I would say, “This is the moment! This is the union about which I prayed since before you were born. Enter into life, love, and joy.”

The Bible says that the kingdom of heaven is the story of a groom who awaits his bride. Right now you may not want to leave this place. But the day will come-maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but the day will come-when we will be fully-grown. And we will see him. And then we will understand.

Ortberg, John. Everybody’s Normal Till You Get to Know Them. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 2003, p. 231-233.