Mansion Over the Hilltop

The mansion we saw hiding back in the Riverside orange groves during our walk on Sunday.

When I was growing up, we used to sing a Christian song called, "Mansion over the Hilltop." It began thus:

I'm satisfied with just a cottage below,

A little silver, and a little gold.

But in that city where the mansions will shine,

I want a gold one, that's silver lined.

I've got a mansion, just over the hilltop

In that bright land where we'll never grow old

And someday yonder we will never more wander,

But walk those streets that are purest gold. 

It didn't take me long to recognize that the lyrics to this much-beloved song were extremely materialistic and embarrassingly self-centered. Really? I need a house made of gold and lined with silver? Why? And what I yearn for is to walk on streets of gold? My sassy side is thinking that all that shining gold might give me a headache. And there would be dents and divots everywhere, since gold would not hold up well under all those thundering feet.

Heaven isn't about what you'll get. If heaven exists (and I happen to believe that it does exist, but that it is completely different than what we typically hear about), it's about being reunited with my Creator in a relationship that we started during my life here on earth, now. For that reason--being in a heart-close, loving relationship with the One who I can trust completely, and who knows and loves every molecule of me--I can hardly wait for heaven.

But let me turn my attention back to mansions right here on this earth. I'm not fond of them. I've lived in fourteen apartments and houses in my life so far. Some were very small and several have been quite a bit too large, and I must say that some of my happiest times were spent in the small ones. I do think there are some places that are just TOO small, and that would be miserable. But when I've been in the too-big ones, I've felt rather uncomfortable, partly from guilt and partly because extra space is like wearing clothes that are too big for you.

My point is this: a mansion, by definition, is too big. Things are just things, and it's the love and the activities that make a home or mansion a happy place. Our last house had three rooms we almost never used, and we would have gotten along just fine without them. Our current house has two rooms we almost never use, and we'd be okay without them. And we could fairly easily do without the separate dining room, too. Why have a room you only use, on average, three times a year?

Maybe someday we'll get it just right: Our bedroom, two office rooms with storage closets in them, a kitchen, a nice large family room and a guest room. Oh, and a laundry room and a garage. That would do it.

And now the thought comes to me: that would be a mansion for most people in the world. Oh dear.