We had our seatbelts securely fastened, and tray tables in their upright and locked positions when we left. It was before dawn’s first light.
We winged our way east — all four of us. I opened the shade of my window to pre-dawn darkness and a thick fog.
I thumbed through a Delta Sky magazine, and Anna rested her head on my shoulder when it happened: Heaven opened.
In a glorious and simple moment that only a few of us noticed (because shades were mostly closed) we brushed up against the holy. The pilot had nosed the plane heavenward, through a cloud-blanket that covered Earth in a dark, gloomy shadow. But here we were now, climbing into the light — suspended between two layers of clouds. And I swear, I could reach out and grab the hand of an angel up here.
All because we opened a window shade.
These are the times when we visit heaven, before we really get there — a sort of sacred “trailer” for the movie that’s been showing in theatres for, like, ever. It’s earthly proof that what we believe is real — and it’s a sign that where we’re going is already planted within us.
Yes, it’s true, I tell you: Heaven is in us, even before we are in heaven.
We’re learning heaven’s language here on earth, if we’re wise enough (or lucky enough) to be paying attention at the right time. Which, really, is almost any time. Heaven speaks here on Earth, whispering the language of our more permanent home into every corner of our temporary one.
And I am learning, and re-learning, to open my eyes to this wonder — to open the shade even when it looks dark outside.
Sure, this is a broken, rancorous world down here. It’s darkened by the venom of hatred and evil. But, too, it is a world of wonder and light found in unadorned places that open up like portals to eternity.
I’m opening the shade. For where I am steeped in wonder, I also am steeped in praise.
“O brethren, we do not want merely to go to heaven, but we desire to enjoy a heaven on the road to heaven.” — Spurgeon
(And Mr. Spurgeon, the view is lovely from here.)
Writing in community with Laura, and her “Playdates with God.”