This is part of a book I wrote about Heaven.
I’m in a huge field of bright yellow wildflowers. There’s an unbelievably delicious scent floating on the breeze. I pick a flower and smell, but the scent isn’t in the flowers. I look up and see an infinite blue sky. There’s no sun, but the even under the plants, there’s no shadow, no darkness of any kind. The light is a physical substance flowing around me almost like water. I feel an ecstatic joy bubbling up in me that is beyond anything I’ve ever imagined, and I can’t suppress the laughter. I raise my hands in the air and spin around and around like a child, laughing with a delight that cannot be contained. Sensing His presence, I come to a stop, and He is there a few yards away. Without thinking, I run to Him and throw myself into His arms, spinning Him around. As we separate, my hand covers my mouth as I realize what I’ve just done. More than a little embarrassed, I drop to one knee, bowing my head before Him, greeting Him with “Lord.” As I look up at Him, I look for any sign of displeasure at my lack of reverence. He has a very mock-serious expression for a second, then the severity fades into amusement. He smiles, then I do. Soon we are both laughing. He takes my hand, raises me to my feet, and we walk together. He tells me that this place was created just for me. I am welcome to come here whenever I choose. “I’m glad you like it,” He says.
“It’s almost as beautiful as its Creator.” I whisper. I ask Him about the scent, and He tells me it is His love for His children. It permeates everything here. “Thank you,” I whisper. I step quietly back into His embrace, knowing that He feels my love and gratitude. He lets me go, and I look up and around, noticing that there’s now music – beautiful, Heavenly music. I look questioning at Him, and He says, “Go on. Dance for Me.” And laughing, I dance. After a few minutes, I look around, and wonder where He went. Then I hear His laughter, and know He’s here with me, and always will be, forever.
I have been here many times. Sometimes with others, sometimes alone. Today I am alone. Sometimes I dance, or read; but today, I have a picnic. The warmth of the light is perfect, as always. This field is never the same twice, but it’s always exactly how I want it to be.
I spread the blanket out, and lie down, enjoying the quiet peace. I close my eyes and put my hands behind my head, smiling. I briefly consider inviting one of the millions of friends that I’ve made since I arrived, but decide against it. There’s only One whom I’d like to be with right now, and I hesitate bothering Him. It still amazes me that He is able to spend so much time with us individually.
As I lay there with my eyes closed, I feel so quietly joyful, I can’t help but silently worship in my heart. I shoo away a fly from my face, and consider how perfect everything is here, yet always new, always interesting. I swat at the fly again, then freeze. There are no flies here. Almost immediately, I relax and smile. “You know, I can’t sneak up on You like that, Lord.” I think. I hear Him laugh, and the sound causes my heart to skip a beat as I open my eyes. He is sitting next to me on the blanket, with a flower in His hand, suspended above my nose - the "fly." Even after untold millennia, the sight of Him sends a shiver down my spine. “I used to wonder if You had a sense of humor,” I say, with only a little irony in my voice. He laughs again, and opens the basket, removing the food that I’ve packed. “You’re eating with me?” I ask in delight, sitting up. He says, “I can leave if you would rather be alone.” I shake my head, and say quickly, “NO! I was only. . .” Then I notice His smile, and the sparkle in His eyes, and I laugh a little. Sometimes He is so majestic, so awe-inspiring that I can hardly look at Him. And then there are times like this, times when He is familiar, fun-loving, and He seems to enjoy gently teasing.
Our eyes meet, and I think, possibly for the billionth time, how beautiful He is, and how beautiful His voice sounds to me.
Thank you. I hear in my heart, and I have to look away. After all this time, it amazes me that He can still make me feel shy. It is no small thing, to have the undivided attention of the Lord.
I move to prepare the food, but He’s already gotten everything ready. As we eat, we talk about various things, about work (which is more fulfilling than I ever dreamed possible), and about my recent visit to “see” the Father. Though I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been in the Father’s presence, the combination of fearful awe and worship hasn’t diminished, and I still have not been able to look at Him. I have come to understand that I probably never will. Lately, though, I have been able to speak in His presence. I have finally gotten to tell Him that I love Him, and worship Him, though He knows my heart. I don’t know how many more visits it will take before I can do it without shaking, but I’m enjoying the process. I tell Jesus all of this, despite knowing that what the Father knows, the Son knows.
We finish eating, and I lean back and look up at the cloudless blue sky. As we sit quietly, I close my eyes. It’s so peaceful here. A thought pops into my head, and I wonder whether the sky is blue because of light refraction, as it was below, or because that’s how I want it. A change in the light makes me open my eyes, and I see that the sky is now purple. I sit up and look around, but He is gone. “I liked the blue!” I say to the sky, and as it fades back to blue, I hear Him laugh.
I return the laugh, and whisper quietly, “I love You, Lord.” And I send every bit of love it is in my ability to possess up towards that laugh, knowing it will find its way to Him.
I am answered by a rush of love so deep, so strong in my heart, that I gasp, and lie back down for a minute, enjoying being overwhelmed. "That," I think to myself, "will take more than one eternity to get old." My face reddens a little as a chuckle reminds me that He doesn’t have to be beside me to hear my thoughts.
