When we get to heaven do you think we’ll see
a grand and happy welcoming committee

Friends and family who’ve gone on before
all lined up behind a gilded door
anxiously waiting to see us at last
regardless of how much time has passed

Laughter rings out, joyous and light
happy reunions made merry and bright
someone steps forward and calls for the band
while another seeks to grasp our hand

Pulling us into the large noisy fray
we dance and sing for all eternity

I do hope these are things that are waiting for me

Heaven Help Me

I’m no angel, but I’ve spread my wings a bit.  ~ Mae West

Heaven gets a lot of press. As well it should and most of the time, heaven is portrayed as a place of good. Harps and clouds and happy thoughts. But maybe there’s just a little bit more to heaven. Something sinister.  That’s right, I said it.

You’ve heard it. Hell (ha), you may have even said it. I know I’ve said it at least once. But I never really stopped to think about the implications of it. Sure, it’s innocent enough, meant to comfort. You know what I mean, about how your loved ones are looking down on you. Making sure, you’re “safe”, watching over you. Whatever that means.

Am I the only person in the world that gets the wiggins from that? Can you imagine toiling on this Earth. Being good. Living a moral life only to get to heaven and have to spend all your time looking back here! Checking up on everyone to make sure they stay out of trouble. I don’t know about you, but man I will be one pissed off lady if that’s what my eternity is reduced to.

Can you imagine an eternity of watching the unfolding of boring lives when the entire universe lies at your feet? The people you can meet. Ghandi, Jesus, the grandfather that squandered the family fortune! I know a few people that have been waiting to meet that son-of-a-biscuit-eater. Besides, it’s not as if you can affect anything directly. Right? Cause if you can, and my dead relatives haven’t, I am going to open up a giant can of whoop-ass when I get up there, especially on Dad! Hear that Jimbo? You are going to be one sorry dude when I get there.

How do I know that I’ll be meeting all these awesome people in heaven? How do I know there not in that other place? Well, I have my thoughts on who belongs there and, well, since this is my blog I’m going to share them with you. Hell, in my estimation, is reserved for the truly evil and heinous. Nicolae Ceaușescu, Ted Bundy, Saddam Hussein, Osama Bin Laden. War criminals. You know like Dick Cheney-level evil.

All kidding aside, I do want there to be an afterlife. Honestly, I want there to be more than one. I’d hate to think that this is all we get. This short time. This taste of the extraordinary. This struggle and turmoil. This uncertainty. I know one thing. Heaven better be spectacular. Wild horses, dancing til dawn spectacular. Full-on rave spectacular. Fall in love with your soul mate spectacular.

Hey, Saint Pete! Are you paying attention? I’ll be up there sooner or later and I expect a room with a view. One that faces away from Earth. K. Thanks!