Ho-hum Heaven?

Late September and early October is peak elk-viewing time for tourists. The weather usually cooperates, too, with gorgeous, warm and clear days.
Down at the end of Fish Creek Road, where it ends on Highway 36, is a small sub-section of Lake Estes. The elk love to wade into the shallow water there and congregate.

For me, it's elk as usual. I drive by and hardly glance at the big beasts.
But for the out-of-towners, a gander at an elk is big doings.
The other day, as I drove down Fish Creek on my way toward a writer's meeting down in Loveland, I came around the corner and nearly collided with about ten cars who'd all stopped in the middle of the road to stare and take pictures of the elk in the lake.
Argh!
I sometimes wish I had one of those police loudspeakers that I could thrust out my window and say with an authoritative voice: "Please pull over!"

But I understand. Really, I do. I remember how overwhelmed I was by the Rocky Mountain's beauty when we first moved to Colorado from the flat farmlands of Illinois. Estes Park is about one of the most gorgeous places in the world. Add to that deer, elk and other fascinating wildlife, towering mountains and crystal blue lakes and you have a recipe for a wondrous vacation.
It's just that I've lived here for nearly two decades and an elk has now become a ho-hum sight.

I wonder. When you first arrive in heaven, doubtless you'll be looking around with eyes of awe, joy and worship.
But do you think that those who've been there for a few thousand years have grown blase about their heavenly home?

Nah! It's not even a close comparison to Estes Park and the majestic elk.
As beautiful as this world can be, it's still an imperfect world with imperfect people.
We see things God has made, but not He, Himself.
We see the created, but not the Creator.

I can't even imagine what it will be like to see GOD.
Would you ever grow blase about. . .
HIM?