My buddy was telling me a story the other day about a man who was separated from his wife and kids and then killed them and tried to get himself killed so they could all be together in heaven. He was able to kill himself a short time into his prison sentence. Terrible theology aside, I could see my friend was still quite affected by those events years ago, and still in some ways wished he could have truly made the man suffer or pay for the things he did. I reassured my friend that he was indeed paying a far greater price than we could levy against him. He agreed and that was kind of the end of it.
My immediate thought when confronted with the idea of he needing to be punished was that of God being the final judge. Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord, and that was good enough in the moment. But as I started driving home, I tried to picture what that might look like. Here's what I came up with.
After he died I think he met God. I think God pulled him in, wrapped His arms around him and held him tight. I can hear God say, my precious, precious child, how I love you. How I wish you had known my love in your life. I think in these brief moments this man instantly understood God's love. What that could have meant for his family and for himself. He fully understood his meaning and purpose on the earth, how he was meant to live, and the cavernous void that was instead his life. But more than anything, he understood that this God who now was not God, but simply Love, who had been holding him tight, was now letting him go to be taken to the place of eternal torment, where the weeping and gnashing of teeth would be his own. Where it has been his own for many years. Where these years probably seem like a million forevers to him.
No greater regret will there ever be.
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