If I win the lottery, I won’t go around posting it all over social media. But there would be signs. Just perhaps a modest little cabin in the woods, right?

Truthfully, I do fantasize about owning a home like this. Even though the chances of me living here are about the same as me winning the lottery (or me getting struck by lightning), it’s still fun to picture myself in my red plaid robe walking down those front steps (that are hopefully not iced over like in the picture).

But then I remember Jesus said that in His Father’s house are many rooms, although I prefer the old King Jimmy version that calls them mansions. Whatever I can conjure up in my mind as being over the top ornate and opulent, heaven will be better. It will be a thousand times more incredible than any episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous with all its champagne wishes and caviar dreams.

But the best part of all won’t be the streets of gold or all the gates with precious stones. It will be seeing Jesus there. The joy of every longing heart will be made sight and the hope of the world will wipe away every tear from our eyes in a place where there is no more need for grieving.

That’s what I look forward to more than anything else. I long for no more bad news. I long for no more reports of murder and bloodshed and war and hatred and unrest. I long for when the lion can lie down with the lamb in peace and safety.

But if it’s God’s will for me to live in the cabin pictured above, I’d do my best to suffer through it for the Lord and put on my best face in the attempt. One can dream, can’t one?