Heaven. Nobody knows. Everybody wonders.
People who lose their closest person wonder more than most, I suspect.
Streets of gold? Crystal rivers? Pearly gates? Lambs Book of Life? What does this even mean? My mind cannot conceive what any of this will look like anymore than an ant can be taught to ride a bicycle.
Only this am I sure of.
Heaven is our home.
When I was a teenager, my Momma told me a story. As relayed by her, the minute a baby draws breath on this earth, he is like a fish pulled from the ocean. The fish desperately gasps for air and can survive for a little while outside its natural environment, but if the fish is not splashed with water frequently or returned to the water from which he came, he will die. In her estimation, we spend our entire earthly lives trying to get back to where we came from, our Eden.
One year ago today, my Momma drew her last breath on this Earth and darted off to return to her natural habitat.
My heart rejoices for her, and my heart rejoices with her.
On a day that should be a gut-wrenching reminder of the gaping hole in my life --
the absence of my very best friend--- it makes no sense that I should, instead, be filled with inexplicable joy, but I am.
And I can only chalk it up to the fact that I have spent the last 365 days sustained by earthly splashes of the uninterrupted glory she now knows fully.
My mother was many things, but chief was that she was a "knower" and a "giver."
A bite of her favorite candy bar was never refused, and just yesterday, I remembered when I did not yet have my own vehicle how she let me drive her car to work while she sat at home with no way to go. She never complained.
She went nowhere, so we could go somewhere.
That was her way.
And today, I celebrate the unending sacrifices that have finally led her to "Somewhere."
She knows what heaven is like while I can still only speculate, but in her knowing, she is not content to hoard it all up for herself. She is a giver, which means I am getting a big ol' bite of her spiritual candy bar on a daily basis.
I can't make sense of how she has done it, but somehow, someway she has managed to scoot some of heaven off the ledge down to Earth for us to enjoy.
I want to scoop up as much of it as I can and share it with everyone I know just like she did for me. And in this sharing, my hope is the same as hers. May everyone know the utter joy of coming home. It is not too late. Come Home.
-CDB