By that I mean when I’m sleeping. When I wake in the morning, I rarely recall a dream from that night’s slumber. Most of them dissipate like the morning fog and the chirps of birds. Except for one dream that I’ve carried with me for almost 20 years. My mother came to me in a vision, in the early hours of my 36th birthday. The first birthday since she passed away eight months earlier.
In the dream, my mom, sick with cancer, was confined to a hospital room that looked like my sister’s house in Monterey where my parents had lived. I could visit her there, but she was not allowed to leave. General Hospital meets Shawshank.
However, there was one condition: when she was healed and no longer sick, she could come home. Of course, in the next scene, that day arrived. Full of joy, I rushed to her bedside in my sister’s kitchen and found her looking whole and completely healthy. I exclaimed, “Let’s go home, mom!”
She looked at me, a mixture of peace, compassion, love, and serenity on her face and said, “I don’t want to go home.”
I was dumbfounded.
Shocked.
Incredulous. Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.
“What do you mean?” I screamed with much less love and compassion. “But you’re all better!”
And that’s when I woke up, on the floor, a tsunami of grief washing me out of bed.
Some birthday present.
Later that morning, my younger sister met me for breakfast, and I told her about my horrible dream over pancakes and omelets. When I was done, she smiled, not quite catching my downer vibe of having the worst-dream-ever on my birthday.
She smiled. “Tony,” she said putting down her fork, “That’s a good dream.”
I wasn’t buying it. “What do you mean?” I said.
She spoke clearly and calmly, embarking on a crash-course in Afterlife 101. “She’s in heaven. She’s all better. The cancer is gone. Her body is whole and she’s in the presence of her Lord and Savior. Why would anybody want to leave that?”
“Well, to be with us!” I cried, knowing she was right, but still having a hard time going from bad dream to good dream on the turn of a dime. She reached for the syrup and gave me a look that said enough. I started seeing the dream for what it was.
A well-timed birthday gift that I haven’t forgotten.
I’m not an expert on heaven, but I believe it’s real and it’s where my mom is living. I’m confident that it’s so great that once you get there you won’t want to leave. I believe that it’s where everything is exactly as God intended the world to be.
That’s how things started out here on Earth. Remember the Garden of Eden. All was perfect. Created by God without blemish or mistake. Then Adam snacked on an apple, sin entered the world, and Earth and its inhabitants have been in a state of decay ever since.
In heaven, everything gets a reboot. Decay is destroyed and everything thrives. The Apostle John, exiled for his faith in Jesus Christ, had a dream about heaven. Jesus met him in a vision which John transcribed into the Bible’s last book, Revelation.
There’s a telling passage in Revelation 21:
“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”
No death, no pain, no crying. I wouldn’t want to leave either. Imagine a place with no death. A place where physical pain is in the past. Then consider everything that causes us emotional pain, and the tears that result, being completely absent: lying, deceit, misunderstandings, arguments, pride, immaturity, selfishness, foolishness, stubbornness, and defiance. To name a few. All left at the door.
And if the actions above are absent from heaven, think about what else isn’t there. Their effects:sadness, anxiety, depression, grief, distress, loneliness, isolation, panic, rage, shame, worry, and worthlessness. Banished. Each and every one of them.
Sign me up.
Actually, I signed up a long time ago. I have a one-way ticket. Bought and paid for by Jesus with his perfect life, death, and resurrection.
Jesus talked about the Kingdom of Heaven a lot. He wasn’t referencing just the heaven we ascend to after this earthy life is over. When he arrived and started his ministry, he also started the eternal clock on the Kingdom of Heaven.
To paraphrase my pastor, the Christian life isn’t just about people getting into heaven when they die. It’s about getting heaven into people in the here and now.
In the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus taught us to request our daily bread. Before that he said to petition for his kingdom to come. I think, the word “daily” could also be inserted there. As in “thy kingdom come, daily.” If bread is to be requested daily, so can heaven. A daily kingdom of heaven starts in your heart. From there it leaks into your home, your workplace, your school, your neighborhood, and yes, your car when on the freeway.
While it’s hard to prevent physical pain, sickness, and death, the goal of thy daily kingdom is to try to eliminate the things that cause emotional pain and its long list of side effects.
The daily kingdom is exemplified by love, peace, gentleness, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, and self-control. Add in some honesty, integrity, submission, selflessness, compassion, and service of others. A lot of times I feel like the worst at living these out. Good thing I can come back the next day to try again.
Thankfully, in heaven we’ll exhibit them perfectly. When I get there, I know on whose door I’ll be knocking first.
It’ll be a dream come true.
Happy Mother’s Day, mom!
