A Heavenly Perspective

I once saw a movie or video clip that made a lasting impression on me. They first showed the view while walking through the streets of a specific city or town. It was dirty, scary, and broken. Then they showed the view at night from a mountain. Lights everywhere, something mysterious, breathtakingly beautiful. The same city but different viewpoints, different perspectives.

My view of heaven has been very limited. Maybe it’s like that with many people. I remember thinking previously, what are we going to do all the time for eternity? —almost worried that it is not going to be great at all. For how long can one sing and pray? I thought maybe if we get in heaven, we will change somehow to spiritual beings that do not mind floating on clouds, playing a harp, and singing all day.

When you lose someone very close to you, you tend to think about heaven and want to know more about this place. I keep on telling people how God sends me people, songs, Scripture, books, and teachings to make my sorrow easier. I was overwhelmed with all the things He sends my way to make my life easier and better. I am not the person I used to be. I have more depth, more layers, and more thickness. I have grown. I thank God for that.

God does not want me to have a limited view on heaven. For how we view heaven and life after death impacts how we live here and now—and also how we process and experience the death of our loved ones. So, I began to listen to teachings on heaven and read glimpses of the book by Randy Alcorn called Heaven. What an impact that has made.

The night just after I found out my son, Kaleb, passed away at 39 weeks due to a knot in his cord, God said one thing to me in my spirit: our life here on earth is just a speckle in comparison to eternity. This truth has grown in me and has helped me when I felt hopeless and broken. My new revelation regarding heaven has added to this truth and has given me more than hope: it has given me an excitement for our life after death.

One aspect of my loss that was and is extremely hard for me to accept is that Kaleb died prematurely, and that I thought he couldn’t live his purpose, the calling he was created for.  Maybe it is so hard for me because his life had so much promise. I felt in my spirit that he had a big calling on his life. But the truth is that life doesn’t end when our bodies die.

Even though I am a Christian, I did not make this truth part of my life or thoughts, especially when I lost Kaleb. The enemy wanted to cloud my view. But the truth is, we are going to live, we are going to have purpose, and we are going to have new bodies on a new earth, which is going to be a physical, tangible place.

Heaven is going to come down on this new earth and this new earth will bear similarities to how it was before sin entered into this world, in the garden of Eden. There are going to be animals, interaction between humans, relationships, and companionship with God. God is going to be with us. Face-to-face. There is going to be no sin, no pain, no sickness, no death, no injustice, no fear. No more crying. We are going to eat, drink, work, have purpose, have roles, and serve.

We are going to do what we were created and gifted to do. This world we are living now is not our home. We are going to be restored and the earth is going to be restored too. Our relationship with God is going to be restored. Life is going to be perfect. It almost sounds impossible and too good to be true.

My Kaleb is still going to live on the new earth and do and be who he was created to be. He will still have purpose and use his talents. He is going to live for eternity on the new earth. I will still be able to have a relationship with him. I do not know what the nature of our relationship will be, whether or not I will still be his mother, but he will know me and I will know him. The enemy has not won. I am going to do everything possible to stand on God’s promise that He will use every hardship and create something good.

Getting this glimpse of how heaven is going to be must change us and how we live.  Our minds can no longer be only focused on our day-to-day walk, struggles, and pain. It would not be wise to focus on this speckle, if our life on the new earth and new heaven will be eternally so much more. We cannot allow the sorrow and the pain of this world to overshadow us.

Every now and then, God shows me the bigger picture: the beautiful lights, the breathtaking view. Even though I get dragged down to the gutters where people are hurting and life is scary, I can look up and remember the bigger picture: God’s plan, being face-to-face with Him, our new earth, and the perfect life that awaits us. This is called hope.

I lost Kaleb on April 6, 2016 at 39 weeks due to a knot in his cord. I love blogging about my loss and how God is helping me through it.

Are you a writer who would like to join the blog team? Learn more and apply here.