Perfectly Worded

A rather serious entry, but I had to write it down. Those closest to me know that I continually struggle with the concept of death and heaven. It’s hard to put into words. I’m not afraid of the physical pain of dying. I’m afraid of leaving people behind and of not having the same relationships in heaven. I understand that this is a totally emotional thought process. I know it means I put too much emphasis on the wrong things. I believe in heaven, but I know what I experience here. That I love being a child, a wife, a mother, a friend. I believe in heaven, I just can’t imagine it. Who can, really? It is supposed to be amazing, perfection, beyond imagination. We are supposed to want for nothing there. Who can imagine not wanting?

One time when my grandad was in the hospital he looked at me and said, “I’m not afraid of dying. If God could make all of this, then heaven has to be pretty good.” I’ve thought about that over the past 3 years, and it always makes me feel a little better. But I’m still scared.

Tonight though, I finished reading Beautiful Boy by David Sheff. At the very end he recounts the end of summer as his family was returning from a trip. His daughter, a fourth grader at the time, who was not raised by religious parents, suddenly said, “But you know, I don’t think I will be so scared to die. I think it’s like today: the end of a vacation when you are ready to go home.”

Who would have thought that from the mouth of a child whom I do not know, I would be given a sense of peace?


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