Hereafter

Hereafter: Part I Crossing Over, Chapter 3

WE COULD HAVE WALKED, but Lydia was in a hurry so she grabbed my hand again and we just started moving effortlessly faster and faster, as if we were coasting downhill on skateboards or cruising on a Segway. Through her hand I could sense what Lydia was doing, simply conjuring up an image of our room at the dorm and off we went—heaven’s idea of GPS navigation. In a few seconds we arrived in the hall in front of our apartment.

The doors and walls and ceilings and floors were there for privacy, but presented no real barrier to our glorified bodies which could easily, effortlessly, and automatically transform into more mirage than matter. Our bodies were really just the monitor on which our spirit and intelligence were displayed allowing us to interact with the rest of the misty world that was heaven.

Though most of the people who die and end up in heaven are old souls, when they arrive back here it is always a there’s-no-place-like-home experience. Unless you’re one of the higher-level souls, while on a mission you have no knowledge of your life in heaven or any recollection of your experiences on other missions. The main impressions allowed during missions are those that involve your spiritual growth and they guide your choices while in a flesh-and-blood body. I was on heaven’s lowest level, there were seven, and my next mission would involve earning my wings to qualify for the next level.

The alternative universe of heaven is not formed around the familiar planetary-solar systems we’re used to, but at least on my level does exist on an immense round celestial body much like Earth. Heaven is a place, a very special place, but one where our three-dimensional world is only projected as a familiar reference on heaven’s lowest level. Here, there is the appearance of a familiar sky, but full of a kaleidoscope of shifting, blending colors. Instead of a sun, it is the glory of God’s limitless energy that provides constant, quiet, comforting light while at the same time powering whatever goes on.

Think of heaven like a perfect Earth, with no death, no disease, no poverty, no suffering, no lack of opportunity, nothing tainted by decay or evil, no civil strife or conflicts among nations, no crime, no pollution, no exploitation of natural resources or mistreatment of the precious plants and animals that sustain complex, interdependent living systems. In heaven, part of serving God means to respect everything God created. Here, what’s truly important has nothing to do with what we normally value on Earth—money, power, material possessions, or even beauty.

Looking around Lydia’s dorm apartment, the accommodations were anything but five-star—two small bedrooms, a modest living room, kitchen, and bath.

“This isn’t exactly a mansion,” I teased, not really caring one way or the other.

“Yah, you’re not the first newbie to say that. Think of Jesus’ mention of the mansions in heaven more as a metaphor—anywhere you find yourself in heaven amounts to a palatial pad. The luxury of being here is in the possibility of fulfilling your wildest spiritual dreams, and, of course, all the other perks involved in being a member of God’s family.”

“I guess I get it . . . or I will, eventually,” I responded with an admittedly confused look on my face.

Lydia took me into my room.

“As you can see, there’s a bed, but it’s just a prop. A night and day cycle is provided here, but you’ll find you won’t get sleepy. The bed is to help you transition. Lots of us pray or meditate during the night,” Lydia explained.

“You know, on Earth when I was one of the Guardian’s Disciples, I learned to adjust to not needing sleep. I remember making good use of that extra time; reading, working out, but can you tell me how I’ll be occupying myself during the day now that I’m here?” I was impatient to know.