Is There Carpet in Heaven?

Several years ago, when I was working as a substitute mail carrier, I got called into the Post Master’s Office.  Through the years, I have been “called on the carpet” on many occasions for various reasons.  You might say I have plenty of “on the carpet” experience from high school, college, work, and yes, even church.

In this particular situation, I was working midnights at the cement plant burning the cement kilns.  I had worked off midnights on a Saturday morning, showered at the plant, ate breakfast at Hardees, and arrived at Montevallo Post Office early.  I thought about quitting the cement plant and working for the postal service since I was a bi-vocational pastor.  Postal work would be straight days instead of rotate shifts.

When I got to the post office, I put up the mail, pulled it down, and delivered it.  That afternoon I went home slept until time to work midnight and pulled another shift.

As we all know, there are folks that know more about your business than you do.  Well, the post office Miss Busy Body informed the Post Master that I had worked the previous Saturday without a good night’s rest and was unfit to deliver the mail.

On the carpet, the Post Master informed me that I needed a good night’s sleep before I delivered the mail.  He reiterated that the mail was a precious commodity that must be delivered with the utmost accuracy and extra care as I traveled the rural roads of Shelby County.  He notified me that if I did not correct the error of my way that he would discharge me.

When I finally got the opportunity to reply, I let the Post Master know a thing or two.  I asked him, “How much sleep did you get night last night, and what time did you get up yesterday morning?”  He responded that he had gotten up at six, went to bed at eleven, and rose this morning at six.

I told him that I had more rest than he had.  I said I went to bed at eleven in the morning, slept until nine, went to work at ten thirty, got off at six fifteen, reported to work at seven thirty, returned home around three in the afternoon, and slept until time to return to midnight shift.  I reminded him that his day was from six in the morning until eleven that night, which is seventeen hours before rest.  The Saturday I worked my time starting at nine thirty and ended at three thirty the next day which was fifteen hours.

I continued to tell him that Miss Busy Body’s son, also a rural carrier substitute, bragged to me how he did not get home until four in the morning and reported to work at seven thirty and if I was not mistaken, that’s only three and half hours.

I told him that each day that the cement plant entrusted me with two cement kilns that costs of millions of dollars, used thousands of tons of coal, produced millions of tons of cement, and I didn’t believe the mail I carried cost that much.  I told him that I understood responsibility and took many safety classes that stressed the importance of rest and work.  I worked sixteen hour shifts and many occasions at the cement plant.   I worked every other Saturday delivering the mail and worked seven consecutive days burning the kilns.  Did I say he had a sheepish look on his face?

At some point in each of our lives, people trust us.  I remember the first time dad let me drive in town.  He had an injury to his hand and he needed to go to Bessemer for a part.  We loaded into a 1958 Chevy and dad said, “You drive.”  I was scared to dead, but I knew daddy trusted me enough to drive and I was not going to let him down.

Years later, I needed someone to drive my car home from Chilton County ninety-eight miles to Gallion while I drove my old truck.  My son Aaron was thirteen.  I told him to drive the car, stay close behind me, and watch my taillights.  He had been driving enough around the Gallion community that I trusted him.  We drove slowly and safely an hour and half trip late at night and in heavy fog.

God did something amazing before the cement kilns and before mail delivery.  He in trusted me with the most important task of mankind.  He called me to share the Gospel.  It is ten simple words:  Jesus died for our sins and rose from the dead.  God is bringing the Lost to Jesus and I am part of the action.

 

But as we were allowed of God to be put in trust with the gospel, even so we speak; not as pleasing men, but God, which trieth our hearts (I Thessalonians 2:4 KJV).

 

I wonder if there is carpet in Heaven?