Do you really want God to make everything new? Aren't there some things you like better when they are old? Isn't that warm coat, with the familiar colors and the fraying threads in the collar, better than the latest fashions, with the colors that don't quite suit you and the lack of features that you just can't live without? Doesn't that bald husband with the annoying leg twitch have features that you just wouldn't trade for a new model? any new model? Have you ever bought a new (or newer) car that just didn't feel as right as the old one? Sometimes old is better. Old things can be reliable and practical. The known is often better than the unknown.
Not long ago my university made the building I work in new. It had the old building gutted to the core and constructed a major addition incorporating many offices and classrooms. But I miss my old office greatly. In it I had bookshelves everywhere, even in the coat closet. Come to think of it, I had a closet in the old office--a place to hang a coat or a spare jacket, to store my graduation gown, to keep an extra pair of shoes and an umbrella, just in case.
The new office has an extra-large work space that I have industriously filled with clutter. But my new desk doesn't have as many drawers as my old, tiny one, and I have lost track of many papers as a result. The new office has space for far fewer books, and I have had to take many of them home, causing confusion and inefficiency as a result. I have less space for files, so I have also had to divide them between home and office.
But there is no going back. The powerful air handling system in the new building means no more students sleeping in class because the air is hot, stuffy, and stale (they have to come up with other excuses now). The technology of the new building allows us to explore teaching options that have improved learning a great deal. The configuration of the building has done wonders for the seminary community, enhancing the quality of relationships among students and teachers. And the suite of offices in which I work, in spite of their inefficiencies, is like a little piece of home away from home.
And I take comfort in the knowledge that in the new earth "I shall know fully, even as I am fully known" (1 Cor. 13:12, NIV). When God makes all things new, we will still recognize the ones we love. Our surroundings will be perfectly suited to our needs. In heaven the new will be constantly renewed, yet the familiar will be preserved. Only the flaws will be gone. Our joy will be complete. And I won't miss the fraying threads.
Lord, I can't wait to see that new world in which we will have no regrets.