The Now and The Not Yet

“Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

— Matthew 6:10

“I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

— Hebrews 13:5

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Today I’m sharing a reflection from my husband, G. Wray. Many of our conversations begin by the lake, where Scripture, creation, and quiet questions meet. This piece grew from one of those mornings.

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Gilda and I sit on the deck overlooking the lake and its ever-changing beauty every morning — and often again throughout the day and evening. The view is never the same twice. Sunrises as stunning as sunsets. Cloud formations like moving architecture across the sky. Birds and wildlife passing through in an unscheduled parade of beauty, entirely unaware they are part of it.

To those who notice such things, yes — we are spoiled.

But over time, these hours on the deck have become more than moments of appreciation. They have become places of contemplation. Places where questions rise that we did not know we were carrying. Questions about the Lord, about His ways, about how He reveals Himself through creation, and how Scripture suddenly comes to mind and opens into conversations we did not expect.

It was on one such morning that we found ourselves recalling a conversation we once had with our pastor — a conversation that revolutionized our understanding of Scripture and the kingdom of God.

It began with a phrase from the Lord’s Prayer:

Your kingdom come.

And we found ourselves asking:

What question is hidden inside that statement?

Before meeting with him, we had already begun searching Scripture, trying to understand what Jesus meant. But we could not quite bring the idea into focus. Years of teaching had given us other assumptions — ideas many people have heard: that heaven is somewhere “out there,” far off, removed, waiting only for later.

But Scripture — and the words of Christ Himself — point us toward something far more immediate.

For many years I had struggled with the feeling that heaven and Jesus were “up there somewhere.” No matter how hard I tried, I felt there was some strange space between us—an invisible distance I could not cross. I knew, of course, that Christ dwelled within me. But all around me too? Here, now, in this place?

Then we sat with our pastor, and he guided us into a truth that struck with the force of revelation:

Not only is heaven still surrounding God’s throne—heaven has also broken into earth even now. And Jesus is here with us in this moment.

What?

It landed in me so suddenly that it felt almost physical. Like being struck in the forehead and thrown back into my chair. My hands flew to my head as the realization went deep into my heart.

So I asked, almost in disbelief:

“What are you saying? That heaven is here? That He is here, right now?”

“Yes,” came the reply. “This is what theologians sometimes call the now and the not yet.”

Wow.

Tell us more.

Jesus, he explained, proclaimed that the good news was that the kingdom of heaven had come near. With His coming, heaven’s reality had broken into the world. Emmanuel — God with us. The kingdom is near because the King is near. And later He told His disciples, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

So this is how we live now:

His kingdom is already here — but not yet in its fullness.

Christ is with us now — but not yet in the fullness we will one day behold.

The now,

and the not yet.

We left his office that day wondering if we were the last people on earth to discover this.

How had we lived so long in our Christian faith and not seen it?

We were not praying to a God merely “out there,” somewhere in a distant spiritual realm. We were not reaching across an unbridgeable gap, hoping our words traveled far enough.

And that changed everything.

Now when we sit on this deck and ponder God’s Word, pray, talk, and sit quietly together before Him, it all comes from a completely different perspective than the one we once lived with.

We are learning, day by day, under His open sky—in the brightness of dawn and the gloaming of evening, with the fog, the birds, the rain, and among all His image-bearers in the world—that He is always an intimate part of every moment.

When we pray, He is here.

When we listen, He is here.

When we walk, He is here.

We have been given not only salvation,

but presence.

And as you sit with this truth, allowing the Spirit to settle it more deeply in your heart, I hope it brings you the same freedom it brought us.

When you take your own walk today, or sit on your own porch, consider this:

Heaven is already here.

And so is Jesus our Lord.

And yet — not yet in its fullness.

The now and the not yet.

Journaling Prompts

1. Have you ever felt that gap—God somewhere “out there,” just beyond reach? What did that feel like?

2. How does knowing that Jesus is here, now, change the way you pray today?

3. What would it mean for you personally to live from presence rather than distance

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Thank you for reading.

He is already here. Look around.

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© G. Wray. All rights reserved.