Heaven

Heaven will smell like a wood full of bluebells or lilac in full bloom and open old-scented roses.
It will have the freedom of wide open spaces and the security of a snug white-walled cell.
It will be the tor where the cliffs drop away and the sea joins the sky.

In heaven I will be able to blog all day while receiving chatty emails from friends.
The beds will have the softness of feathers and the fires will blaze.
Chocolate will be slimming and hair won’t frizz in the rain.
There will be an endless supply of Harry Potter books and Wales will always beat England at rugby.
Post office counter assistants and doctors’ receptionists will be nice.
Mel Gibson won’t age and Paul McCartney will sing at my birthday party.
Computers won’t crash nor batteries go flat.
The people I like will be close to me, the people I don’t will be ... a bit further away.
I will have perfect hand eye co-ordination and be able to ride a bike.
My dog won’t steal food but will do as he's told.
My children will remember to close cupboards, switch off lights and not scrape crumbs in the butter.
Other people will notice before the toilet roll runs out and will not leave the empty roll on the floor.
It will only rain at night (except when I’m feeling miserable and a need a storm to walk in.)
In fact, heaven will be pretty much like life on earth with more of the good and less of the bad.

But what small visions, small dreams. Is heaven really only as wonderful as I will allow it to be, as good as the best I can conceive?

I would tie the creator down to niceness and neatness when he wants to show me mind-blowing wonders leaving me open-mouthed at their splendour. That’s what heaven must be, not pleasant afternoons in front of an old movie, but living out the thrill of discovery, where each day, for all eternity is unimaginably wonderful. Beyond words, beyond description. Where the only thing we know for sure is that Jesus is there. And he knows my name.