Sometimes it’s those verses we are the most familiar with that we are quickest to skim over . . . “Yeah, yeah,” we say in effect, “Been there . . . read that . . . let’s move on.” But really, isn’t the fact that we know these verses so well . . . that we’ve heard them so many times . . . an indicator right there that they are the diamonds. They are the elite of Scripture . . . of all the verses we could remember or have memorized . . . these are the few . . . and so, just as a master jeweler appreciates fine diamonds and will pull them out just to gaze at them and appreciate afresh their beauty, we too, when we come across these jewels of Scripture in our leather bound jewelry boxes, should pull them out . . . pause . . . gaze at them . . . and be moved again with their magnificence. No skimming over John 14:2-3 this morning . . .

In My Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to Myself, that where I am you may be also.   – Jesus
(John 14:2-3 ESV)

What a house! The Father’s house. The abode of the Almighty Himself. It is the place where He who dwells in unapproachable light (1Tim. 6:16) lives. A magnificent structure . . . constructed with materials and techniques unknown on earth. Huge . . . it defines heaven . . . heaven defines it. And in this house are many rooms . . . literally many dwellings . . . many places to abide. The Master Builder has constructed His house such that it might receive many guests . . . no, not guests . . . He has built His house such that all His children can come home. If it were not so, Jesus wouldn’t be telling us it was so.

Yes, in this house are no guest rooms . . . there are only rooms custom prepared for each child of God. Personally designed by the Creator . . . handcrafted by the Carpenter of Nazareth. An abiding place really beyond speculation . . . beyond earthly senses to imagine . . . something that is, quite literally, out of this world. Keith Green captured it well, I think, when he said that if God created the earth, and all its beauty and grandeur, in 7 days . . . and now Jesus has been preparing a place for us for 2,000 years . . . then “we’re livin’ in a garbage can compared to what’s going on up there!” Can’t wait to see my room!

But really when I get there, as amazing as the room will be . . . as awestruck as I will be by the beauty of the surroundings . . . what I’ll really be looking for is the One who went to prepare that place for me . . . the One who purchased for the place. And see Him I will! . . . He promised . . . “And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to Myself, that where I am you may be also.” My room will be ready when it’s time for me to go home . . . and, as amazing as that abiding place will be, it will be secondary to the wonder of the reality of just being where Jesus is. The Lord of lords and King of kings says that He, Himself, will receive Me . . . will welcome me . . . will settle me in . . . and, will let me be with Him.

To be with Jesus . . . face to face . . . or, I guessing, probably face to feet. What will that be? Welcomed into the courts of my King . . . ushered into His presence . . . looking up and seeing the scars in His hands and His feet . . . remembering that the preparation for my dwelling place began on the cross . . . knowing that the entrance to my room was formed through the shed blood of the spotless Lamb of God . . . recalling that I didn’t seek Him, but that He sought me — as a Shepherd seeks lost sheep . . . . as my chest, feeling like it will burst, swells up with a heart overflowing in love and adoration, reminded that I love Him because He first loved me. What will that be?

What a house awaits me . . . a dwelling place being custom prepared for me. What a Savior who, having rescued me, is now preparing a place for me, and one day will come and get me and receive me to Himself . . . that I might abide with Him forever.

To Him be all glory . . .