Of Heaven and Hell: Another Story Entirely

Growing up I had a fear which I did not know how to share. Surely my Evangelical neighbor's would have scoffed at the Catholic girl's fears. My fear was Heaven. There was a sense of emptiness when my thoughts turned to eternity with God in Heaven. What are we going to do there? I knew that I did not want to go to hell, but I could not fathom how our time would be spent in Heaven. Would I grow bored hanging out in the clouds of glory? What would "loving" God forever and ever be like? I should have read Revelation, but I feel sure that even such reading would not have satisfied my fears.
When I lived in North Dakota, I attended an Evangelical Protestant Church as well as attending St. Leo's Catholic Church. Back then, I worked at a Christian book store; my boss' family had helped me to get an apartment in the building where the church was located. It is some what funny that the building started out as a Catholic Convent. It became a college later, then an apartment building with an non-denominational Evangelical church in the large hall in the middle. One night, while in a prayer circle at that church, my boss and her daughter were standing to the left of me. We all went to hold hands but my boss's daughter (who was about 7) did not want to hold my hand. All piously I thought: "I will just hold Jesus's hand." Sticking my hand out into the empty air to my left, I closed my eyes as we prayed. Gently, it felt as though someone did grab my hand. In my mind's eye I saw Jesus and it was He holding my hand. He looked at me, I looked at Him. As I looked into His eyes, all that I could see was love, compassion, mercy, forgiveness. I knew at that moment that all I wanted to do for eternity was look into His eyes. I followed Him (in my mind) as He walked us along a verdant stream side. My desire from that moment was to follow Him anywhere. Also from that moment on I have not feared Heaven. I know what I will be doing there: I will be in the presence of the greatest Love that I have ever experienced being more fulfilled than this life can offer. He fulfills our every needs. My God! What an amazing gift you have given me. Thank you!
That reminds me of other memories of my Minot days. I remember going up the isle during a sermon about spiritual healing that called anyone forward that felt the pull of Jesus. The gentleman giving the sermon talked about God's forgiveness and healing. Jesus was calling me. I came forward, carrying with me the burdens of sin that mired my life at the time. The burden was so heavy that I fell about halfway up the isle. I lay there sobbing. Even in my broken state, my pride was so much that I desired the biggest and the best of the Church to pray over me, for surely their prayers were more powerful, right? I was prayed over by a few hands that I felt on my shoulders and on my head. The pain and the weight was lifting, but when I lifted my head it was not them whose attention I desired, but those that I viewed as the odd balls and off-kilter lifting hands in prayer over me and offering me tissues. I saw in that moment that God chose to use the vessels I would not of chosen to humble me. I would have cast them in their imperfections aside and gone for those vessels that appeared the greatest. God doesn't need the greatest and biggest, most well-spoken person to do His will, He needs the willing. I pray that God will find me willing when He calls.
Ah. Maybe I can drum up one more spiritually minded memory before I post this. Yes. I do have one more series of memories to add. When I worked in Eugene, I liked to spend my lunch hours walking the few blocks to St. Mary's to either go to noon Mass or spend 30 minutes before the Blessed Sacrament. At first I would spend the whole 30 minutes speaking. I would plead with Our Lord to speak to me. I must point out that this was right after Josh and Wendi's separation so I was feeling very low. I would continue in prayer, over and over again begging God to say something to me, for Him to offer me a word of encouragement.
Sometimes God waits for us to run out of things to say to Him before He speaks. It could be that He is incredibly polite and doesn't like to interrupt, but I think that He knows how much we need to get it all out so that we have room for Him. One of the most important things that I heard Him say to me over that time was: "Shut up." It wasn't meant rudely or cruelly, but truly I was so busy speaking in my prayer life, in my personal life, in every waking moment, that I wasn't allowing time for Christ to speak to me, for Chris to speak, for me to hear anyone else.
Through out my life I have heard voices. Mostly I believe I hear my Guardian Angel speaking but one particular day in spring while Chris and I were driving home (we both worked in Eugene), I asked Chris a question and then promptly started to fill-in-the-blank of our conversation when I heard a voice (whom I believe was Jesus) say to me: "Wait. Shush. Give him time to answer." I listened to that voice. Even though it was really hard, I gave Chris the time he needed to think about my question and to form his answer. That moment showed me again how much Christ cares about every aspect of our lives. I think that Chris and my relationship is so much stronger because Jesus cared enough to help me learn how to communicate with Chris without rushing him.
I hope this is inspirational in some way. I know that Jesus used these experiences to change my life; it is my desire in the re-telling of them that you will get some lesson that will aid you on your journey. Love you!