Hereafter

Hereafter: Part I Crossing Over, Chapter 2

I GOT A BETTER LOOK at myself by seeing Lydia up close. Our glorified bodies were so much different than the flesh-and-blood forms we were using only a few hours ago. From a distance she appeared normal, breathing, rosy cheeks, but the closer she got I could see her skin was translucent and didn’t show any signs of aging. Nearly a thousand Earth years had passed since Lydia took her own life, but to me she looked like that fateful last day when we walked into anatomy lab together. I had so much to learn and had yet to be briefed about anything to do with my new life here. I was sure Lydia would have some answers.

“Fallon, it’s wonderful to see you again. Of course, I’ve been monitoring all the extraordinary developments with you on Earth since I got here. Thanks to you I’ve been pretty popular up here when everyone learned that you, the Fallon Ford of Final Solution fame, and I were best friends!” Lydia proudly proclaimed.

I was overwhelmed, so much so that it took a few moments before I realized that Lydia wasn’t moving her mouth, and yet I was hearing her speaking in my mind. The experience was way beyond mere words, however. I seemed to be feeling Lydia’s joy over seeing me which was much more than merely speaking in words. Responding to Lydia, I tried to form the words with my lips, but she stopped me.

“Fallon, that isn’t necessary here. With us, just think your thoughts and I’ll know what you’re saying. Go ahead, try it!” Lydia instructed.

Lydia could see that even though I was an old soul like her, being in heaven was a brand new experience for me. She was patiently helping me learn the ropes again. Upon death while on a mission, each person as the right to choose to resume their previous life in heaven or start over as if they'd never been there before. Apparently, I'd chosen to start over.

“Are you sure?” I blurted out using my voice.

“Go ahead . . . I’ll let you know that I’m hearing your thoughts.”

I began and got a reassuring nod of recognition from her.  

“Oh, Lydia . . . some friend I was, taking you to that rave, not seeing the signs that you were terribly depressed, and worried more about not hurting your feelings than getting you healthy. I didn’t tell your parents what you were really going through, and I should have. That doesn’t add up to a good friend in my book,” I countered, fighting back the still-crushing guilt of not doing more to save her at the time.

“Please, Fallon, don’t think about it that way. Everything happens for a reason. I’m here, aren’t I? Yes, like in your dream, and yes I’ve been able to monitor you pretty closely, when I crossed over Jesus asked me how I felt about what I’d done. He could see I was upset. I said, He, but Jesus actually appeared to me as a woman,” Lydia shared with a whimsical puzzled look.

“How can that be?” I asked.

“You know, we both went to the same church growing up, but I always thought there was something not quite right about how God was typically represented as a guy. That went for Jesus, the apostles, and in our day it was always a man standing behind the pulpit interpreting scripture from a man’s point of view. Men were the head of families and women always took a back seat. That rubbed me the wrong way so I always tried to imagine God as a woman. Sure enough, when it was my time to cross over, there She was, a feminine divinity, but having the same loving, understanding nature as we’ve come to expect from Jesus.”

“Amazing,” I reacted supportively.

“Yah, it’s not like that around here, sexism, I mean. It’s truly not about what’s on the outside here. In fact, how you appear to others is only partly dependent on your glorified physical body,” Lydia added.