Monday, June 18, 2012

Of Those In Heaven

Okay... Now, no one go and have a cow, ok? Just stay calm and think about this first. I just wanted, no, needed, to explain how I feel about this. (And after reading this you'll see why I've never been the most popular kid on the block. Er hem.)

Yesterday, Father's Day, various of my dear Facebook friends and relatives wrote that they missed their dads who now live in Heaven and days like Father's Day, they said, were painful. Hard to get through.

I just don't get that. 

Call me weird or unfeeling, but I just don't understand torturing yourself on days of remembrance, including anniversaries of loved ones' deaths.

What did I do on Father's Day? I pictured my Dad walking around Heaven with a gang of his pastor friends and his parents and his sister's family, too. I could practically see the wonder still in their eyes at the whole glorious place, even though they've lived there awhile. 

Everyone was happy. Everyone sang and looked around at the lights and buildings and praised God then sang and looked around at the lights and buildings and praised God some more. 

The group stopped for really, really great coffee. They sat outside of a heavenly bistro in the Sonshine and laughed and felt inward surges of gratitude swell to their throats. Then after their coffee and positive, uplifting conversation they all rose up from the tables and went in search of a new heavenly adventure. What to do now? A mountain walk? A swim in the River of Life? A stroll through a neighborhood yet unvisited?

Well, by then I felt so excited for the whole gang, that I began to get impatient about zooming to Heaven, myself, so I had to stop the daydreaming. It was all too good. Too enticing.

But what I certainly did not do on Father's Day? I did not wish my dad back here to this sorry planet. Uh, no. Let's face it... people in Heaven do not want to come back here to us (sorry, but they don't) and I think it requires a certain humility along with maturity to admit that to ourselves. Their desire is that we let God comfort our hearts and that we be with them in Heaven, but only after we've lived a full, obedient, pleasing-to-God life here, first.

And instead, I would propose that we just be glad down to our very toes that our loved ones in Heaven are experiencing incredible, unspeakable, unimaginably glorious times with others gone before us. And more importantly--that our hearts sing because they're with the One who died so we could all have an amazing, unfathomable Life, forever. And forever after that. One look at Him--one moment within the total unleashing of His presence--and who would want to come back here? Well, no one, so I will spend no time wishing anybody back. Not any resident of Heaven, not even for a minute.

Why let my heart be troubled? Instead, I will choose to be thankful to my very bones that I have Emmanuel, 'God with us', helping me live in joy here upon this imperfect planet, infusing me with a glorious anticipation of a whole new Life to come while I wait, while I work, and while I get to know Him better this side of Heaven.


“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.  You know the way to the place where I am going.” ... John 14:1-4



Sara said...

Oh goodness, what is the name of that sweet little book you recommended about a woman's time in heaven? I am looking around and can't put my hands on mine. If ever grief and mourning overwhelm the celebration of heaven; this is the book to clear one's heart. I have never been one to mourn again on birthdays and holidays. Good grief...take me with you! That's how I see it at least ;)

Sara said...

Intra Muros!!!!

Debra said...

Aha, Sara! The book is called Intra Muros, or at least, that's one of it's many titles out there. And I know... I can hardly read much of that book because it makes me soooo impatient! I'm always, like, "I want to go to Heaven. I want to go there NOW!!" :)

Thanks for your comment and for understanding. I know not everybody will understand or agree with this post, but I'm just hoping they'll think about this different perspective for awhile. Blessings, Debra

Yellowhouse Grandma said...

I've never ever wished my mom back for a minute! I truly believe death is in Gods timing and I would not question ever why he took her when He did! I know it is all beyond our understanding but I know she is at peace and free of pain. That means everything to me.

Debra said...

Yellowhouse Grandma--yay! Someone else who gets it. In my past, I've not known too many people like you and Sara, but I'm glad I know you both now! :) Blessings, Debra

K.E. said...

While I'm more of a sleep in death kind of person - good heavens (heh) - how selfish to want people back. That's about me, not them.
Doesn't mean I don't miss them though.

Anonymous said...

I was so thankful for this post. I fully agree. Yet I don't think I ever really thought it out like that. This week I was given some of my father's things. He died over 10 years ago.They brought back so many memories. Things I had forgotten about and such too. I would love to have him still here on earth {not dead} but he did die and how wonderful to think of him and all those I love together again in Heaven. I think all the other commenters said such beautiful things today. I too was thinking what the name of that book about Heaven was titled. I want to try to find those older posts and reread your writings too. This is again a post {and comments } I will reread and reread. {{like so many you write}} Sarah

Dolores said...

Oh Debra, I love you. That first paragraph cracked me up. And the rest of your post just brought joy to my heart. I always picture my dad deep sea fishing in heaven. He's tan and healthy and having the time of his life. Thanks for such a great post. Dolores

Echoes From the Hill said...

I can relate to that concerning an adult, who has lived a full life, but how do I reconcile that with losing a three year old?

Debra said...

Thanks, Everyone, for each of your thoughts! I so enjoy reading them and always appreciate your taking the time to comment. Truly.

NancyR--one way to reconcile that? I believe it's to realize that growing-up in Heaven must be a very wonderful thing, indeed! From what I've read, there are women there who care for the babies who arrive early and they teach them to love Jesus and they meet each of their needs until these children grow enough to care for themselves. (I believe some of these women were unable to bear children here on Earth so in Heaven, their dream comes true by caring for these babies.)

Imagine being a child and sitting on Jesus' lap!

Once we realize that Heaven is a bazillion times better than Earth--*really* realize that--we are given comfort for our loved ones there and a new excitement for going there, ourselves.

And too, the better we get to know Jesus here, the more we understand hard things--or at the very least--the more we're able to put those hard things within His hands and leave them there, knowing He is all good and He understands all things, even when we do not. He is the God of all comfort and He longs for us to be healed, whole and living a joyful life in Him here upon this planet.

At least, that's the way I see it. Thanks so much for your question and may God continue to comfort you as only He can. Blessings, Debra

Echoes From the Hill said...

Debra, Thank you for your comforting words.
My mother died suddenly three months before our little guy did. I pictured him sitting on her lap,in Heaven, just as he did a month before she died. He told her he loved her then, and I'm sure they have exchanged those words many times since.
It's so hard, missing him, but I just need to keep telling myself that he is with those who love him as much as we do.