My Vision of Heaven

[Palaver]

I just ran across this piece I wrote and though I don't mean
to be morbid, this came to me soon after some friends of mine had lost
not one but two of their little girls in a tragic automobile accident.
A friend of mine encouraged me to post this after sharing it with her.
My daughter, who was only three at the time was already full
of questions and my burden for the mother and father was so great I
could hardly stand it as my own little one, so full of life tottered
around in my shadow with her favorite toy, her rabbit bopping behind
her bediapered butt, pelting me with one after the other, as all of
them are at that age.
"Mama, where is Heaven?" Her bright eyes were looking at me
for immediate answers.
"Oh Lord," I prayed under my breath. "How do I explain where
Heaven is to a three year old?"
"It's a long long way from here, my girl, in a beautiful place
that God has built for us when we..." Do I say 'die'?
"Oh now what, Lord? How do I explain THIS to my little girl,
Lord, in such a way that she will understand, Lord?"
"Who are you talking to, Mama?"
"Oh, I was just talking to Jesus, my baby." I groped, as full
of questions as she was.
"WHERE'S Jesus, Mama? I can't see Him, Mama! How come we can't
see Him, Mama? What happened to those little girls, Mama? Will their
Mama and Daddy ever see them again, Mama?"
Then it struck me, how much like my little girl, I must have
sounded to Him and I suddenly felt His loving hand reach down and
tenderly touch my lips as if to quiet my anxious spirit and that's
when the answers began to flow from my mouth as I answered her
questions one by one in such a way that she was satisfied, even happy
for the little girls! And that's when my eyes were opened---and I
began to write.
I was given this vision, not of an old folk's home in the sky but the
direct opposite and what I saw, convinced me that it just wouldn't be
Heaven if there weren't children there.
You can say what you like but these thoughts came to me so
fast I could hardly keep up with my pen. I am as sure as I am sitting
here of what I saw and for whatever reason I was granted this scene,
it wasn't going to go unspoken, not if it can comfort one broken heart
or give one grieving heart a moment's peace of mind during this kind
of loss, then I had to write it down and I began to scribble...

(Little did I know that two years later some friends of ours
would lose their little girl to a gruesome murderer who would beat her
to death in the face with a tire iron, sodomize her and toss her into
a ravine like a piece of litter. I was so glad I had written this
down, for their sakes.)



My Vision of Heaven

Dear B___ and J_____,

While our hearts are breaking for you at this time of sorrow
and our minds are screaming, "Why...? Why...? Why...?" I want to share
something with you; a vision I had of children in Heaven, and if God
should ever choose to take one or some of my babes home ahead of me, I
beg you, be so kind as to remind me of this. Comfort me with these
words.
Rosy cheeked toddlers who, in ths life, were born with
congenital defects caused during conception or whose lives were
snuffed out by whatever means, are scampering through fields of
flowers, flowers that have never been blemished by pesticides, bugs or
deformities caused by some quirk of nature or during the process of
their unfolding.
When stepped on, they spring back to their full beauty. When
picked, they never fade or wither and their fragrances blend to far
surpass the scent of the sweetest lily here on Earth.
Youngsters who were taken from this life by some cruel means,
whether by disease or at the hand of a sadist, it doesn't matter, are
building miniature mansions of, and sift through their fingers, sand
of the purest mixture, from the finest gems, with no thought of "bath
time" or worry about "tracking it in". Getting yelled at, doesn't even
occur to them. It's unheard of.
Children of all ages again, are diving into crystal pools and
never touch bottom, to resurface whenever they wish, with no fear of
drowning. It's comical to watch them and I suddenly realize, I'm
grinning!
The little fellow who in "life" suffered from asthma attacks
and spent most of his life attached to an oxygen bottle or in the
hospital, is running effortlessly and unrestrained with the "best" of
them. He has no clue what it is to be "out of breath."
Suddenly there's a commotion! All of the children, from the
tiniest toddler to the oldest teenager are waving their hands wildly
in the air and flocking in one direction, some leaping high into the
air and bounding with Olympian strides while the little tikes are
giddy giddy giddying along as fast as their little feet can fly or
bouncing along, light as balloons, laughing and giggling at the tops
of their voices. All of their faces register exquisite delight with
incredibly happy smiles on every one of their faces! Not one of them
is crying.
There is no pushing, no shoving or name calling. There is no
need to or purpose for it. Then it occurs to me that there is no
concept of rudeness and unkind words are nonexistent. Dumbstruck, I
survey the scene that is unfolding before me.
I look up to see the image of a man, not too far off in the
distance, walking along the twisting, winding stream that leads up to
the pool beneath the waterfalls where the children had all just been
playing. It too, seems to be laughing and dancing as merrily as the
children and I can't help but smile.
Whoever it is, doesn't appear to be in any hurry. There's no
need to rush. All of the children are clamoring to HIM, each more
excited than the next and try as I might to get a better look at who
it is coming, my mortal feet and legs aren't equipped to carry me as
fluidly as theirs, much as I would like for them to.
From the corner of my eye, I see a couple of men approaching
as if to shepherd all of the children off in another direction and
then I hear His voice!
Yes! That voice! It has a quality or tone to it like none
I've ever heard before. It is so comforting and soothing as it settles
so softly and sweetly on my ear and then I hear Him say these words.
"It's alright. Let them be. Let the children come to me." And in that
instant I know who that voice belongs to!
"Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!" They are all calling out His name as
the closer they get to Him, the more the excitement in their own
voices rises and it's in that exact moment, that the very mention of
His name, has rendered me utterly speechless. A dumb mute, I feel my
legs give way beneath me and I drop helplessly to my knees in absolute
surrender.
I so desperately want to rush up to greet Him but I can't
move! It's like I'm paralyzed and no one even knows I'm there.
Within moments, He is standing in the midst of them; toothless
five year olds, freckle faced re heads, adolescent boys with peach
fuzz on their chins, young ladies---Wait a minute! Where did her
braces go?
You name it, they are there, and there He is, like He doesn't
even see me. He is in His element, surrounded on all sides by
children. The expression on His countenance gives new meaning to
unconditional love. It's written all over His gentle face.
I have never seen such a sight or anything that remotely
compared, anywhere, as what I am witnessing. What I see in His and the
childrens' eyes as He gazes adoringly at these, His favorite of all---
the children---is truly something to behold.
Then, while I am still trying to absorb it all, a glimpse of
Heaven without children flashes before me and it is almost more than I
can take. I can't even imagine it!
Our minds cannot grasp the concept of "boundless joy" because
joy and happiness as we know it, always seems to be overshadowed by
something, however minute or magnanimous. For some more than others,
it hangs ever present, like a condescending cloud of doom.
His voice is so tender, like no voice I have ever heard and
the child who was once deaf, hangs on His every word.
He's in no hurry to go anywhere, for there is nothing calling
Him away. His father's plan has been fulfilled. There are no urgencies
or time elements for there is no measure of time.
He has them all eating out of His hand as He shows them one neat
trick after another, that He can do with REAL flowers, REAL rabbits
and REAL pidgeons. He has them all in rapt attention, performing as if
by magic---only HIS is real!
I notice one little straggler trying to see what's going on
and try to lift him up so he can get a better view but I still can't
move. Then before I know what's happening, Jesus stretches out His
hand and the little guy floats towards Him and into His open arms, a
huge grin on the little boy's face, while the children all burst into
applause.
How each of them left this earth is as remote to them as
their natural births, no matter how gruesome or disturbing. Their joy
knows no bounds. There are no shadows or clouds to darken their days,
no fear in the night. There is no fear. There is no night. There is no
want for sleep or naptime.
I see grown-ups standing there, joyfully taking it all in,
showing no favoritism or partiality towards their own.
We see through mortal eyes and feel with frail human emotions. We
question things our finite minds cannot grasp. We are left behind to
deal with the clay and circumstances surrounding their departure,
unable to comprehend what their arrival must be like there, and again
we ask "Why?"
We believe and know that we will meet again yet that doesn't
fill the emptiness in our aching hearts. Sometimes, it seems the pain
is almost more than we can bear and we die a million deaths yet we
still cannot conceive what God's purpose is or can we?
That scene of Jesus and the children would not be! Yet He said
in His own words, "of such is the kingdom of Heaven." Unless we become
like one of these little ones, we cannot enter into its gates.
We have been taught that God's way is perfect but that is even
beyond our comprehension because none of us have ever seen perfection;
not even close.
We say, "this is a perfect rose" as we admire it's beauty, yet
upon closer observation, we see where a thorn has torn, ever-so-
slightly, one of it's under petals or something even less noticeable
to the naked eye.
Your little ones are perfect now; unmarred, unscarred.
Regardless of how they left us. Hard as it is to conceive, now they
have no torn under petals. They have sprung back to their full beauty
and everything about them is absolute perfection.
Dream of this dear ones. Draw strength from this hope and
consolation, while we around you, lift you up on wings of prayer.
May our Heavenly Father grant you a sweet foretaste of Heaven,
with the knowledge that your circle has begun there. May He fill your
hearts with peace and comfort to overflowing.

Written in weakness,

August 1, 1990 by Naomi Hinshaw-Hersh





NOTE: I have not put a copyright on this piece. It is freely given to
all those who have suffered the loss of a child, to copy and to pass
on to others. All I ask is that you keep my name with it, not for
pride's sake but as a part of what God has given to me to keep its
message in its original form. Naomi