Journey From Heaven

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Journey From Heaven Page 4

by Joe Derkacht


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  Stepping from the portal, I surveyed the bluff that rose a thousand feet above me, my eyes quickly settling on one of the two houses fixed upon its green brow like jewels in a crown.

  In my father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, so that where I am, there you may be also. These same words often rang in my ears, as I came upon this place, words that had once rung in my ears as I woke in a hospital on old earth, made all the more poignant to me by my having made the mistake of sharing the experience with someone in spiritual authority. Reverend Danin had fixed me with a stern look and said God no longer spoke to people through dreams or visions, and certainly not with an audible voice, either. Didn’t I know all that sort of stuff passed away with the last of Christ’s apostles, and would I care to have him prove it to me from the scriptures? Didn’t I know eating late at night, maybe pizza or ice cream or pickles, or taking drugs, gave people weird dreams?

  Visions were dangerous, it seemed, even when offered to the dying or nearly dying. It didn’t matter that Jesus’ words sizzled with more raw power than electricity itself, or that I’d instantly understood how such a voice could speak worlds into existence… Never again would I dare tell of my vision; Reverend Danin already often looked at me strangely, and I didn’t want anyone else thinking I was nuts, especially since I knew from experience how easily someone could end up in the loony bin.

  Even now, I sometimes still laughed at the memory. Why wouldn’t I? It surprised Christopher Danin to find that the New Jerusalem was an actual city!

  A single bound carried me to the top of the bluff. A far shorter hop, over the stream separating the two houses, set me on the pathway to my own home’s front entry. The mother-of-pearl door, coruscating with pleasure at my approach, swung open of its own to allow me inside. Passing quickly through the gem-studded foyer and into the great room, I walked alongside the stream of living water that divided the room neatly in two. A long corridor branched off into other rooms, the furthest my bedroom. Walking in, I closed the door behind me and knelt to offer up a brief prayer of thanks. Once again, I was home in the city prepared for all those who’d believed in Christ, home in the very house built without hands for my eternal habitation, at rest in a place more uniquely me and mine than any other in the universe.

 

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