My father, who art in heaven

Heaven is such a strange place to think about. So many people, in trying to comfort me about my father's recent death, tell me "He's happy and in a better place." And as much as it is comforting that he isn't in pain anymore, it's hard to be comforted by my dad being in heaven. The truth is, we really don't know what heaven is like.  We are told that heaven is a wonderful place, with streets of gold and your own mansion. We are told that we store up treasures in heaven, and that there is a great choir of angels who sing praises to God. But we don't know, not really for sure. And when I close my eyes and think about my dad, his voice, the way he laughed, his infectious personality, it's hard to think that all of those things don't exist in heaven. He's in a new body now, in a new place, and sometimes I wonder if I would even recognize him or if he would recognize me.

When I was a little girl, I used to ask my dad what heaven was like. He would say, "Erin, heaven is like a giant church picnic. All the people that you love are all in one place and you can eat all kinds of amazing food. You can have steak, and chicken, and chocolate pie and all the coke you can drink." As an adult, I'm not surprised that my dad associated heaven with food. But even now that I'm old enough to know better, I still can't help but picture my grandaddy, and my grandpa, and my friend Esther, and my Uncle Oc and my dad all sitting on a big blanket somewhere, eating an amazing spread of food and laughing at a funny joke my dad told. I imagine God, and Jesus and the Holy Spirit all sharing one enormous piece of cake.

But my view of heaven, and what I've been taught about it still leave me with this amazing sadness. It's hard to look up into the heavens and praise God sometimes. To praise him singing a song my dad loved, or taught me how to sing. It's hard to deal with the fact that now both my daddy's are in heaven. And sometimes, when I'm alone and I'm talking to God, I also talk to my dad. It's a confusing business having 2 heavenly fathers, and I admit that I am not at all used to it.

My baby boy accepted Christ into his heart last week. It was a moving and wonderful thing, and I had absolutely no one to tell. So I sat there, bawling my eyes out and thanking the Lord and trying to imagine the party that was happening in heaven. And all I wanted to do was call my dad, and hear what he thought. And I hoped, I really hoped that he was a part of the party. That he was standing up there just crying, the way he always did when moving things happened.

I don't know if he can hear me, or if he can see what's going on. I don't know if he hears Elijah plead with God to give Guy a parachute so he can fly back to California and live with us. I do, and it breaks my heart to have to tell him that there is no balloon that can go up and get Guy. But I'll keep talking to him, and we'll keep going on with life. And I know, that one day, I will see him again.

 
                                I know heaven must be a great place, because it's where my dad is.