Following up my death, trip to Heaven, and return to life as mentioned last week...(click here if you're interested)...
...it's become more real in the passing days, particularly the tactile parts...the feel of the perfect grass, and...well, the hugs...I'm not a hugger, but hugs are a part of Heaven, and I will have to get used to that.
It may not be so hard.
What's also more focused is the experience, not of being taken up 'into God's arms', but being taken up into God, that, to repeat myself from last week, Heaven isn't where God lives.
It's HIM.
And I was sent back, and Barb (and others) asked if I was upset by that.
Not at all, because I was sent back with a job to do, to pass the word that you are made for Heaven, and it's made for you.
There's nothing to fear. You're safe.
And you are loved, far more than you could ever imagine.
You would think that this revelation would make me more serious and sober, less the clown and more the...
...more the...
...well, whatever.
Nice try.
I'm still me, and below is the second part of the weird title to this post, dedicated to a wife (Hey, Barb!) who most assuredly does not suffer fools gladly.
You
really do not want to get
upon
Barb's displeased side,
for
I have not discovered yet
that
there's safe place to hide,
and
I said that she reminds me
of
a major movie queen,
one
whom it's delight to see
in
her defining scene:
'Jurassic
Park”, T. Rex set to leap
upon
her fleeing prey
in
a clearly foredoomed jeep,
who
cannot look away
from
the mirror facing rear:
“Objects
are closer than they may appear.”
And here's the iconic scene from Jurassic Park. (If your device doesn't load the video, please click here.)
Thanks to Carol Ashby, Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart is back on Kindle, and will be available in paperback soon.
Friends are everything. I couldn't have done it.
Below are my recent releases on Kindle -please excuse their presence in the body of the blog. I haven't the energy to get them up as 'buttons' in the sidebar. You can click on the covers to go to the Amazon links.
I died in the early morning hours of March 14, 2021, went to Heaven, and came back.
I think I came back...or was sent back...to tell you a bit about it.
As background, I have a serious problem breathing now. Any exertion, I run out of air and sometimes can't draw breath for a bit. Scary, yeah?
So I guess that's what happened. Breath stopped, and I left.
This was not an hallucination brought on by oxygen starvation; I've run out of oxygen underneath a seaweed bed while diving. It wasn't like that at all.
Run out of oxy, everything gets kind of grey and vague and you see weird stuff (like talking sharks). What was salient about this experience was its clarity, and specificity.
It wasn't a dream, either. My dreams are never internally consistent; there are always jarring notes. Not so, in this care. Everything fit together seamlessly.
I did write a narrative (which is consistent with how I described the experience to Barb immediately afterwards; she read it and verified this), but it's too long to post here. I'll give you the highlights.
But first, this is what Barb said...
I,
Barb, as an eye-witness to the first telling of the vision saw in
Andrew a joy in his eyes that I have never encountered with him
through our 20 years. His eyes and countenance glowed , there was a
feeling of enlightenment, safety, and calm amid his elated telling
and painting of the scene.
The biggest highlight is that it's the culmination of everything you've hoped for, everything you imagined it could be...and far, far better than that.
It is a place of such vivid colours, such green grass, a sky of purest blue and red-gold sunsets, storm-clouds and thunderheads.
It is a place of people, people you knew and perhaps were meant to know, all arriving at the same time and taking with them the best of their souls. There is no room for anger or pettiness or sorrow. Simply no room at all.
No room for feeling triumphant over the devil either; he lost, and that's simply all there is.
It is a place where you might not be recognized at first, because you are seen as you truly are. For me, that was an improvement.
It is a place where we are ageless...where we just are.
It is a place of animals, barking running dogs, and scurrying mice (yes, mice).
It is a place of activity, laughter, music...of things done for their own sake and for no other reason.
It is a place of perfection, of the softest grass you could imagine that you wouldn't hesitate to walk through barefoot...like the best carpet, but alive and growing.
And there are weeds, but they are perfect weeds.
It is a place where you meet the unexpected and immediately say, "Of course...how could it have been otherwise?"
It is a place without limits, where you know that each day will be better than the one before, higher, brighter, wider, deeper...and that is only a foretaste.
Heaven is that place for which we are made, and which has been made for us.
It is not a place where God lives.
Heaven is God.
And coming back, was that soul-shattering? Did I weep for what I'd experienced and for which I now have to wait?
Not at all, because there's still so much to do here...like pass on this message...
What had been hope is now certainty.
What
was hope is certainty,
what
was hazed, now clear,
and
I know there's victory
beyond
what I have here.
I
have seen the bright green fields,
have
heard the joyous song,
but
nonetheless, I will not yield,
for
it would be wrong
to
pack it in a bit too soon;
there
is still work to do
beneath
harsh sun and cool white moon,
and
I must see it through
'till
I'm full-poured as His libation,
and
Heav'n becomes my duty station.
It's said that no music can equal that of Heaven, but I beg to disagree...John Williams' theme from Jurassic Park does the job quite nicely. (Please click here if your device doesn't load it.)
Thanks to Carol Ashby, Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart is back on Kindle, and will be available in paperback soon.
Friends are everything. I couldn't have done it.
Below are my recent releases on Kindle -please excuse their presence in the body of the blog. I haven't the energy to get them up as 'buttons' in the sidebar. You can click on the covers to go to the Amazon links.
Do you know aboutkintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken pots with gold? The underlying philosophy is that scars are history, to be honoured.
I've been thinking about this lately, and about how Jesus appeared to the apostles after His resurrection...scars and all.
Are our scars somehow transfigured in gold...and is this how we will recognize one another in heaven?
Is it just possible that as Christ was wounded for us, our wounds are our offering to Him, when we let Him highlight them in pride? (Possible is the Five Minute Friday prompt this week.)
The pot is cracked and
badly broke;
no wonder, it's so old,
but then the quiet
craftsman spoke:
“I'll fix the thing
with gold,
and though it will not
look as new,
that can't be my
repair,
but when I'm done I
think that you
may yet find beauty
there,
in scars whose trace is
now a-shine
in sun's reflected
light;
no need to thank, the
honour's mine,
and so is the delight
in taking what is
thrown away
to see, with love,
another day.”
Instead of a music video, here's the Resurrection scene from The Passion of the Christ. (Click here if your device doesn't load the video.)
Thanks to Carol Ashby, Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart is back on Kindle, and will be available in paperback soon.
Friends are everything. I couldn't have done it.
Below are my recent releases on Kindle -please excuse their presence in the body of the blog. I haven't the energy to get them up as 'buttons' in the sidebar. You can click on the covers to go to the Amazon links.
First and foremost, I apologise to those whose comments I have not yet answered from last week. I had rather a bad fall (ironic that last week's post was called Fragility), collected a small refrigerator on the way down, and did myself some damage.
But, onward.
Barb brought up an interesting point last week, that some people get lost in the process pf dying...that is to say that they fall between the cracks of Christian comfort.
Their best days are not ahead, and they know it.
Heaven awaits, but they don't want to go.
Counting their trials as joy...well, uncontrolled vomiting and not being able to breathe...not joy.
And they are afraid.
If I have any kind of ministry at all, it's to such as these.
So I need your help, to give them the green spring hope of today, and of eternity. (And the Five Minute Friday prompt this week is green.)
What on earth does one say?
“You have a future
and a hope”,
but Jeremiah gives no
answer
to how on Earth I am to
cope
with dreadful death
from cancer.
“Just think yourself
on Heaven's streets,
a white robe and a
crown, oh, wow!”
That's great, but how
am I meet
the burning hell that
is called 'now'?
To count it joy seems
like a thought
in which I really
should believe,
but I can't do that
which I ought
for it's become so hard
to breathe.
I'm told in Christ
there is no fear,
but I'm afraid, and I
am here.
Music from the Electric Light Orchestra, with Mr. Blue Sky, as choreographed to Baby Groot dancing in the opening scene of Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2. (If your device doesn't bring up the video, please clickhere.)
Thanks to Carol Ashby, Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart is back on Kindle, and will be available in paperback soon.
Friends are everything. I couldn't have done it.
Below are my recent releases on Kindle -please excuse their presence in the body of the blog. I haven't the energy to get them up as 'buttons' in the sidebar. You can click on the covers to go to the Amazon links.