Humming the words to the Song of Limmud Eben was happy with the memories he did recall.
“What have you seen…,
He recalled when he went to heaven. It seemed as though everywhere you went there was a song being sung. Somehow that first morning in heaven refrain was not even a drop in the ocean compared to the impact heaven had on all the senses, much less the auditory. It just now occurred to him that it was almost nonstop. No matter where you went, somehow, in the background, there was music going on.
Music that seemed to resonate through and thru in resonance, as though it were one eternal harmonic.
Even those who spoke to him seemed to phrase the way they talked with an almost lyrical flow. It wasn’t wordy but it seemed poetic or metered. He recalled some people getting that way in some venues back on earth with rap, or rhyme, iambic pentameter and cordial Elizabethan dialogue.
But this went far more and in many ways, far less than that. It could be abrupt as well as courteous. There was an order to it. A style and flair when the words seemed spoken but were in fact crafted as sung.
Calling that a song was…..almost to lessen it….it was….living.
What have you heard “
Eben remembered asking an angel in heaven that was explaining the heavenly scene to him. Typical Eben, He asked a question out of left field. And always at the worst of times.
“Doesn’t anyone laugh here?”
As he recalled, the angel never answered him.
He did get a response but not the one He expected, which at the time, was to be expected.
Nothing in heaven was quite what one thought, though it did exceed all comparisons. There was always so much MORE about Heaven. The response came from what he observed. Experiencing it and not quantifying or questioning it. Absorbing what was occurring right before your eyes, ears, nose, mouth, being. Heaven as someone once said was indeed a state of being.
That “state” being achieved by actually being there.
The deeper in heaven you went, the deeper it got. The more you tried to explain or relate to it, the less it fit the understanding of it. Heaven was baffling. The fullness of it exceeded explanation or description. Even in its constitution it was enigmatic as it was like solid, yet also not. Vaporous though solidified, extant, yet distant.
Shaking his head Eben chuckled thinking about it.
Reality certainly had a greater detail in depth than anyone thought. It was in fact easier to accept the reality of heaven than to figure out. When that “acceptance” became a thought in Eben’s mind, he “felt” himself “sync” with heaven. It was as though heaven itself accepted and synchronized him into itself. As though the place of heaven was as living as the “being” of living.
The same was true in the physical plane Eben lived in. So often in living life as he knew it, so much was taken for granted. The details of living were missed. The less important prioritized. Living was forgotten to mean living it. Experiencing it. Appreciating life in all its splendor. Recognizing life is design with the sculpting of one’s choices to master its infinite detail.
Heaven really was in the recognition of the infinite minutiae all around. Heaven was within and without.
It really had Ebens head spinning the short time he was there. Heaven had so much more occurring than just the aspect of it, there was scarcely time on such a short visit to take it all in.
Chuckling Eben thought he needed eternity just to get a handle on it. Even then he thought he might not.
Eben loved to laugh. It was a character trait of his. Eben certainly was a character. Fortunately he was a character with a sense of humor. Oddly He didn’t recall any laughter in heaven. Only once did he remember there was silence in heaven. The rest of the time it seemed to be music in the air.
What have you handled with your own hands?
Laughing quietly he knelt down, cupping one hand; He scooped water from the lake. Drinking deep it was refreshing. His morning shot of coffee. It woke him up just fine. No cost, no lines, no waiting for a double shot. If he wanted that he just double dipped himself a palm, palm of his hand that is.
Somehow free tasted so… oh.. sooo…. good!
Dawn was a different story here in the Kingdom. That first morning in heaven had been something to see but while a nice place to visit, Eben wasn’t sure if he wanted to live there, yet. All that singing made you thirsty. And being in heaven you wouldn’t want to get so heavenly minded you were no earthly good, now would you?
Or would you?
Dawn in the new “here and now” simply meant from darkness to less dark. From light to lighter, but never to sunrise. No sun had been seen in sixty-nine years.
Still smiling at the lake, switching memories from heaven to earth, Eben remembered a famous comedian who commented on the weather. He said the weather was “dark” followed by occasional patches of “light” which as he recalled even now made him laugh. Something about a hippy dippy weather man.
This time of morning lightening, the dark was giving way to light. In this light his silhouette could be seen as an average man. Average height man with an average beard, wearing an average robe. Not unlike others in the Kingdom, which in the kingdom, was average,
But anywhere else would have gotten you locked up in a strait jacket.
Here in the Kingdom of God his attire did not stand out. No tight confining or provocative outer wear, at this time he was just robed in white. The robes felt silky but sturdy. Light and durable with flow that conformed to the body’s actions. Seemingly silky but durable, not so satiny. It was in fact comfortable and seemed custom fit for the times and the season. Like sandals from days of old that had not worn out, this material appeared to be unusually sound.
Eben was robed but he didn’t have a halo nor act in some peculiar way. He was just an average guy.
Average if you considered the old cartoon of the long haired man walking around town with a sign saying the end is near wearing a robe and beard.
Thinking again of stereotypes, misconceptions, and the fact that the “crazies” weren’t so crazy after all.
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