Heaven

I heard this story from Jaime (jadedtales) who in turn heard it from a friend who experienced it as a dream.  The profound message of it struck me and wrote about it here.  The message was relayed to me in only a few sentences, but this is how I imagined it.  I know nothing about the woman who had the dream.  I believe the messages we are given are too often ignored.  I also believe that connections we have are not random.  This story was given to the friend, delivered to Jaime who told it to me so that I could hear it too and now I share it with you...

The world was filled with white fog and light.  She was alone on the path.  The ground was unseen, but felt soft and comforting.  The effect was calming, but… something nagged at her.  Oh… yes… she was dead.  

 

That was it.  She was fairly sure.

 

Nervousness set in like a single dove lighting on branch of her mind.  The details about the exact cause of demise were fuzzy and strangely irrelevant.  What did occupy her thoughts was, “Oh crap! Will they let me in?”  This being Heaven, she was concerned about even mental swearing.  “Sorry”, she quickly thought.  Another dove landed in the nervousness tree.

 

There was no discernible road or walkway, but she knew she was walking where she needed to go.  The events of her life played like a video montage in her head.  She cringed at the worst parts, cried at the sad parts and chuckled at the silly parts.  She saw her first kitten, her first boyfriend, the day she graduated, her one experimental girlfriend, a string of embarrassing party moments… scene after scene.  It appeared that being dead provided one with perfect recall… how lovely.

 

On the whole she had been kind.  She had loved many, helped many and generally strived to limit the hurts she caused.  But she had also often been vain, apathetic, and careless.  She certainly had not devoted her life to any great cause.  She had not saved any children.  She had tried to do the best she could—still now she could see a great many mistakes she had made.  Nervousness began to chitter.

 

She could see the gates now.  She laughed at seeing the literal pearly gates to round out this cliché version of Heaven.  Still there wasn’t a soul to be seen.  She quickly reviewed the exactly 152.7 hours of Sunday school she had experienced in her life time.  She remembered that Saint Peter should be here somewhere to check his book and see if she should be allowed in.  But as she approached there was no book and no sage man in robes with troubled eyes to challenge her.

 

When she finally confronted the gate she noticed a telephone key pad next to an intercom.  Apparently Heaven had gone through some downsizing and installed some automation circa 1980.  Great…

 

The panel was brightly chromed with the familiar 10-key dialling pad next to a set of instructions.  “Please dial the appropriate number to represent you” followed by a long list of codes, “001 Jesus Christ, 002 Allah, 003 Saint Mary, 004 Jehovah, 005 Buddha, 006 Shiva, 007 Jesus who spoke to Brigham Young… etc, on and on.

 

She pondered for a long time.  She felt this selection would be profoundly important.  But as she reviewed her life, time and time again, she realized… she had never really decided on any of them.  Several more birds landed in the nervousness tree and began to chatter.  She pushed on the gate.  It was solid and firm and in an instant she knew it could not be defeated in the same way she knew she couldn’t randomly make a selection.  She stared at the number pad again and began to cry.

 

But then a warm light appeared behind her.  She turned to see a man dressed simply in white.  He was calm and kind and reached for her hand.  She touched his palm and her sadness disappeared.  All the nervousness doves quieted and stood still.  She felt the connection to him.  Rocks, trees, people, places, lives, worlds, and the cosmos were all connected in him.  She felt the connections beyond him and then realized that she was connected in exactly the same way—all things together… including him… including her.

 

His face held her gaze.  He was not smiling, but the look radiated love and acceptance.  He stepped beside her to face the key pad.  They stood and looked at it together for a few minutes hand in hand.  Then he leaned in toward her and said softly.  “Don’t worry.  You can choose to represent yourself…”