HEAVEN IS HOME

I don’t know how certain people believe this life is all that there is.  We are made up of energy, and energy has to go somewhere at all times.  It cannot just dissipate – if it could, it would not be energy, but something else.  And we had to have come from somewhere, right?  So why not God?  Why not heaven?  The science of it would not exist without a beginning – if humans were already here to begin with.  It is nice to think we’re all related, one big happy family, traceable back to Adam and Eve.  I am not one to have a lot of patience when it comes to genealogy, but it is interesting to hear my grandfather talk about it.

I consider this world my temporary home.  There has to be more than pain and suffering, and it would be a beautiful thing to be reunited with the people we knew and loved but lost along the way.  This world gets us down more often than not, but I see a rainbow at the end of the storm.  We don’t belong here.  We belong with God.  We are here to make a difference, on loan.  We are here to fight for what is right, to love, to change things for the better.  Some people lose focus while we are here.  They become enamored with this world, and they think of death as the end of their existence.  But, oh, it’s only the beginning!

Heaven is home – no matter what happens to us in our lives, we will always have heaven.  It is some place beyond a veil so thin it’s amazing that we are very often unaware of that world.  Living people are surrounded by light and love, and by their loved ones on the other side.  It’s okay if you don’t believe it.   Everyone has the right to think for themselves, no matter what the collective world says.

I don’t know if it was my imagination or not, but last night, when I was reading in bed, I heard something that I should have not been able to hear because I did not have my hearing aids in:  screaming.  And no, I am not crazy and I wasn’t anywhere close to sleep when I heard it.  It was a long and shrill sound, and I heard it more than once.  I put down my book and held my breath for a minute before reaching up and putting my fingers in my ears.  Go away, please, whoever you are.  You’re scaring me.  I probably forgot the word please though.  Silence.  I tried to shrug it off, but the memory is still with me.  What was it?  What was the point of scaring me like that?  I don’t know.  The thing is, my dog, Buffy, did not react to the screaming at all.  Only I heard it.  It’s time for you to go home, whoever you are.  Maybe I am crazy after all.

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