I’ve been thinking about heaven a lot lately. Not that I’m ready to go there at the moment because I certainly don’t want to go prematurely, but I guess that dude in California got me thinking about the Rapture and I have to admit, I am fascinated by all things regarding the Rapture.
Now, I fully knew that Jesus was not coming back last weekend, but I can’t lie, I was secretly hoping He would. I know I haven’t finished the job He’s called me to do and I know that every person hasn’t heard the Gospel yet, and we have much to do, but I just can’t help being excited about how amazing heaven is going to be.
I read this book once called, “My Dream of Heaven,” by Rebecca Ruter Springer. I came across it after my brother-in-law went to heaven unexpectedly and prematurely, and that was the first time in my life that I had lost someone very, very close to me who was still in the prime of their life. In fact, Paul wasn’t even in his prime yet, he was only 29 years old.
During those first few painful months after his death, I read everything I could get my hands on about heaven, I was so hungry to visualize what he was doing up there and what it was like. My father-in-law said many times during those days, “Thank God, heaven is a real place,” which brought comfort to all of us. I realized then that I didn’t ever think of it that way. I was never forced to think about someone I dearly loved being up there. Heaven was sort of just a concept, an idea, but not a real place that was real and tangible; a home for people who I had known and loved, a place that would eventually be my home.
Anyway, this book detailed the author’s supposed trip to heaven during a time of grave illness. The story she told was mesmerizing. For the first time, I had a vision of what heaven was like. I had a context in which to place my brother-in-law. I no longer imagined a foggy, not really there sort of pseudo-world, an empty forever-ness that was indescribable and mysterious. I had a vision of a world exploding with color and light, and sparkling glory.
The way she described meeting her family members, they way she detailed the rooms of her home, the way she described the trees and flowers and grasses, the colors and the smells and textures, I was totally hooked. I became a heaven junkie.
I have reread the book several times and it always fills me with hope and excitement about what awaits me. It hurts my brain to try to imagine the concept of FOREVER, and the thought that this life on earth is so unimaginably short compared to the eternity of heaven. I can’t imagine where heaven will fit all the people. I can’t imagine going to heaven without my dog. I can’t figure out the whole marriage question in heaven. I can’t figure out how you can build a gate out of a single pearl. What kind of gargantuan oyster would that require?
The more I think about heaven, the more questions I have. And I guess that’s just the way it’s going to be for a while.
I know this, heaven is real. Heaven is more amazing and wonderful than we could ever imagine or anyone could ever transcribe onto the pages of a book. I know there is no sadness, no pain, and no death for eternity with Jesus. I know that however many accounts of heaven I read, the actual place is even better.