2nd Opinion: Two things you’ll find in heaven

When you get there, you will not have to look hard to find two things in heaven. And both will make you very happy.

The first is this—the absence of all things bad. The second is like it—the presence of all things good. One eliminates the possibility of sadness and sorrow; the other assures the permanence of something we find only fleetingly here on earth, abundant joy.

At first, you will be startled by the absence of evil. Get used to it! You may have suffered much in this life, but no more. No illness, no lingering cancer, no diabetes with needles and poked fingers, no sore backs, and “Look, Ma, no cavities” in those resurrected and restored heavenly teeth you’ll possess.

Even more startling to you when you first “cross over,” you’ll discover there is no moral evil there. You are a sinner here, but there, you will sin no more. There is no temptation, because the tempter is banned from the place. You will find no foolishness beyond those gates. Wisdom and goodness will be the pleasant scent of every blossom and the delightful taste of every fruit.

There will be no want, no needy and no poor; all that is necessary to bless you and assure your happiness will be there.

Intellectually, think of the stimulating conversations we will have. Eternity chatting with the greatest men and women in history awaits us. I look forward to visiting one-on-one with Mr. Lincoln, when I finally break away from my conversation with Barnabas, the son of encouragement. Maybe I’ll spend a decade or two with Billy Graham and a couple more with Zig Ziglar, listening to his “Zig-isms” of wit and wisdom.

Imagine how amazed you’ll be hearing the details of how angels watched after you. Your guardian angels will share delightful details of deliverances you knew nothing about. They were employed in your protection. I have no doubt you will be free at last to express your undying gratitude personally.

But even that will pale in comparison to the joy you will have when you reunite with loved ones who’ve gone before. For some, it will be Mom and Dad, or maybe a brother or sister who awaits you in heaven. For others—at last—you will have eternity to get to know your child, that one taken from you too early, so young, so innocent. It was an illness, perhaps, or an accident, an infant, a toddler, a teenager. And you’ve always wondered about the life your child might have had—the personality you didn’t get to know. Here is your opportunity.

Could be after you’ve been there a couple million years, you bump into me. I’ll be walking down some gold-paved back alley behind a bookstore, and there you will be, waving at me. We’ll give each other a big hug and introduce ourselves. We will take a moment and sit on a park bench and laugh and rejoice as we get to know one another.

Of course, nothing will surpass the awe and amazed joy that will come upon us as you and I sit there on that park bench when, suddenly, the area all about us brightens. It will be like some overexposed photograph, and the temperature will rise a degree or two. You see, in heaven, there is no sun; none is needed! We will be dazzled by the brightness of the Son of God. I envision him passing by as we visit. He stops to chat with us a moment. You will say: “Lord, listen. I’ve got some questions I’ve been wanting to ask you—you know, about my time on earth. Is it OK if I come by and see you later?”

The Son of God will beam a broad smile and say: “Of course! Talk to Michael, and he’ll set aside a century or two, and I’ll tell you everything you ever wanted to know.”

And you will say, “Thanks, Lord!”

Then, before he continues on, that beam of light will rest his nail-pierced hands upon each of our shoulders. He will lower his head and quietly ask his Father to bless us in ways that are new, in ways we can’t even imagine, ways I can’t articulate.

Here, we are tossed on the stormy ocean of life. There, we’ll be anchored in a safe haven—the safest of havens. It’s a permanent mooring. The conflicts of this world will be but a memory. Reality will be something altogether different and unpredictable.

Maybe I’ve got a detail or two wrong. Maybe none of us can express it adequately. But I do know this: We will be conquerors and more than conquerors who have found our strength and our eternal salvation not through deeds of our own but by something far better. It’s as simple as a gift brought from afar by magi to a babe born in a manger. It’s a blessing bought and paid for on a hill called Calvary. It’s been given freely to us by a beam of light with nail-scarred hands, the very essence of truth and wisdom, the Word made flesh who dwelt among us: Jesus Christ the Son of God.

Rich Mussler is dean for enrollment management at Amberton University and an author, and he teaches adult Bible study at First Baptist Church in Lewisville.