Heaven or Hell

What should I bring with me? This was not the first time I asked myself or a fellow companion this same question. I answered this question countless times when I was alive. Was the weather warm, would I need clothes for the gym and what about my bathing suit? Should I bring it in case there was a pool at the hotel? I spent hours picking out the right outfits to make sure I had everything that I needed, if not more then I needed. Better to have that extra shirt in case we decided to have a casual dinner instead of only having formal dinner attire. Now that I was dead these questions were rather unimportant. Plus, where I’m going, I don’t need anything. The trip I’m embarking on will not have a pool at my final destination nor will it have a gym. If humans are correct in any way about the place I’m traveling too, it will consist of fire, lava, and smoke. No need for a bathing suit.

             I looked around my room at the items I once cared about. They still had such meaning to me. My art collection, my pictures, even the designer jewelry that I was so proud of seemed utterly pointless now. Pride, ha I almost chuckled. My childhood religion lessons rushed back to me reminding me that Pride was one of the worst sins one could partake in. Didn’t someone once write that Pride was the Devil’s favorite sin? Perhaps because it was the most common?

             Irony was that I never felt prideful until the later years of my life because I was too busy sinning in a number of other ways. I never thought of myself as better than until years later. I never knew how much pride was allowed until it became too much. My younger self sinned mostly by lying which took a lot of time and patience. I had to remember what lie I told and to whom. It was exhausting.

The next sin I mastered was a bit easier. After lying I graduated to stealing. Cheating everyone out of what they held dear got me what I wanted and was far easier then doing the work myself. Each time I stole it became easier still, nonetheless I was always very aware that my actions were wrong. This is one of the reasons I know my destination is headed downward instead of up. Whenever I sinned, I knew in my heart of hearts that I was doing wrong, and yet I couldn’t stop myself or maybe I didn’t want to stop myself. It doesn’t matter anymore.

My sins started small but steadily grew as the years went by. I continued making the wrong choices. Don’t all atrocities start small? Hitler didn’t start off murdering Jews, it wasn’t the first thing that he did. First, he blamed the Jews for all that Germany didn’t have. He called them dirty and spinless, making the Germans view them as something less than. Something non-human. Once the minor atrocities were in place, he moved onto the major atrocities. This is essentially what I did as well. Although perhaps not on such a grand scale. When I looked at my classmate’s test and copied the answer, I knew what I was doing was wrong, and yet I still did it. Next came lying to my teachers, parents, friends and whoever else I came in contact with.

What if lying was the only sin I committed? If I stopped at that point, would I be packing for a different location? Would I even have to pack, or would I be placed on a golden sleigh and told that I didn’t need material things for the trip I was about to take? I can’t help but wonder what I would be doing now. Maybe I would have drifted through time and space arriving at the beautiful kingdom that all the virtuous people travel to. Oh, how I wish I could change my life and my actions now that I’m dead.

After I mastered lying and it was second nature I turned to stealing. There were times that felt bad and times that I didn’t. I started off stealing from people that were mean as it was easier for me to justify my actions. My victims were deserving of meanness, were they not? I wish I could say that I stole food so that I wouldn’t starve or that I stole a winter coat to stay warm, but this was not the case. In reality I stole for pointless reasons. Mainly because I wanted more than my share and I wanted it instantaneously, without effort. I was lazy, and self-absorbed.

“Are you ready?” The whisper in my ear brought me back from my memories.

I took one last look around my home. This beautifully crafted building where I spent the last few years of my life. I felt tears fill my eyes, but I struggled against them. I knew that tears wouldn’t help me now. I saw the pictures my grandchildren drew posted on my refrigerator; the stick figure drawings smudged by crayon. Now my eyes filled with tears that I couldn’t control. I forced myself to leave the kitchen into the living room and smiled at my cat sleeping in the sun. Did he know I was gone? Did he even care?

“You don’t have much time” The whispered voice was in my ear again. If you’re going to bring something, get it now.”

What should I bring? What do I need? How am I supposed to pack to go to a place that I’ve never been, in order to meet someone, I’ve never met? The questions whirled in my head as my gaze drifted over everything in my house. The possessions I once thought so important were all so meaningless now. The fancy handbags, the electronics, my expensive car, it all meant nothing. What about my rosary? I bought it years ago at a flea market, it was old and beautiful, warn from someone else fingers touching it while they prayed. It was worn by them not me. I shuddered. I never prayed the rosary; I only purchased it for its beauty. I sighed knowing that it wouldn’t save me now, I was too late. Any hope that I retained diminished inside me. “This is it.” I thought. All there was left to do was to start my journey.

“I don’t need anything” I whispered and suddenly I’m surrounded by what I can only describe as darkness. I see nothing in front of me, nor behind me. Darkness doesn’t fully describe what surrounds me, it is more a sense of nothingness. No ground beneath my feet, no air to fill my lungs, no sound for my ears to hear, there is absolutely nothing. My thoughts race back and forth. Panic rises in my chest, when suddenly another memory floods my mind.

I was surrounded by darkness lying next to my son in his bedroom. I couldn’t see anything since the power had gone out, and it was the middle of the night. Thick clouds covered the moon stamping out any light it normally gave. I couldn’t see my son but unlike what I was experiencing now I could hear his breath. I counted each breath as his chest rose and fell. One, two, three. Slow down I prayed into the dark night. Please slow down. He had pneumonia and the doctors told me that if he breathed more than 30 breaths in a minute, I needed to take him to the E.R. That many breaths meant that he wasn’t fully expanding his lungs allowing the air to fill the tiny sac’s within them. Shallow breaths came quickly and did little for the body. I counted, his breathing was between 22 and 25 breaths a minute.

“Please God” I begged. Please have him be ok. Please have his lungs get the oxygen they need. He is so little, so young.

 How could I ask such a thing? Did I really believe that my prayers would do any good? Why should God answer my prayers after all the hurt and pain that I put others through? I couldn’t slow my minds thoughts just as I couldn’t slow my sons breath. My mind raced.

Growing up I was always told that if you asked forgiveness for your sins that God would forgive. It’s easy to tell children that the thing that saves them is to say they’re sorry. As a lonely, scared adult it’s easy to ask for forgiveness, but is it really enough? At one point the shame and misery became to much for me to bear on my own therefore I asked for forgiveness. It wasn’t enough that I also stopped lying, stealing, and sinning. I still lived with the guilt, and for that reason I not only asked but I begged for forgiveness. Would it be enough? I made amends to many people in my life. The ones that knew about the sins I had committed. However, I was still plagued with guilt and shame because there was one sin that only God and I knew about. It of course was the worst of them all. The second that I committed it a deep sense of dread burrowed into my heart. I knew more than any other time in my life that I had done wrong, and it ate me up inside. For years I tried to forget the terrible sin until one day I simply broke down sobbing to myself and begged for God’s forgiveness.

I jerked myself back into my current state, the pain of the memory too hard for me to bear during this time. Even in death I could not escape the humiliation. I looked around and still I saw nothing. How long have I been here? I wondered. Where am I? Where is the fire, tortured souls and screaming sounds of hell that I somehow know exists?

I’m cold, and alone. More alone then I’ve ever felt in my entire life. My hand flies automatically to my collarbone searching for my mother; s necklace I always wear but there is nothing there. I only feel my bones underneath thin, old skin. Suddenly I feel my skin melting at my touch. I scream, not because it hurts but because I now know this is the beginning of the eternity, I built for myself.

I pull my hand away and see flesh fall from my fingers. I cry, and the wet tears wash away the skin on my face. Everything flashes in my brain all at once. Every second I lived is before me. I cry and laugh as I watch it all. There are times of such joy, and of such pain I almost don’t know how I bared to live through it. If it’s this hard to watch, how did I continue when I was alive? As fast as it starts the images flashing in my mind vanish and I’m alone again. I don’t know how long I’ve been here or laid in this nothingness. I feel no pain or sense of my physical body. My emotions are all washed out of me. I’m just here, waiting for what comes next.

The blue light comes down from above like a waterfall. It flows into me and through me. It is not painful, nor does it burn me, but it is an intense feeling. Almost like I’m drowning slightly. I struggle as it fills me and pours around me creating a new ground for me to stand. I suddenly realize that I’m not alone any longer. As I peer around at my new surroundings, I see images of people I recognize. People that I’ve known a long time, maybe that I’ve known forever. But I can’t remember their names. I smile at them, as I remember that I have no lips or skin, I shrink at this realization, but they smile back. The beings propel me towards the waterfall and its terrifying. The terror is different now, it’s not a sense of dread as it was before. I’m terrified of what I don’t know. When I saw the waterfall of light, I found a seed of hope and the intensity of the water planted the hope inside me. The hope is nestled into my chest, but I can’t fully let go of my belief of what I think the truth is. Why aren’t I looking into a cauldron of death I wonder? Why hadn’t the flesh that melted off of my bones hurt? Where am I?

As if on clue I hear the great voice all around me. It is everywhere and it is in everything.

“How did you feel in the fortress of nothing? The Voice asks.

“I was scared?” I whisper.

“What were you scared of? The Voice says.

“I was scared of what would happen next.”

“Did you make others uncertain? The Voice roars.

“Yes.” I say.

“What did you feel when you saw your flesh fall from your hands?”

“I felt ugly and full of shame. I was disgusted and terrified.”

“Did you make others feel ugly and shameful in life?”

I could barely get the words out. “Yes.”

“How did you feel when you came to see the blue light? The Voice demands.

“I felt hopeful.”

Did you make others feel hopeful during your life?

“No.” I weep.

“Your last answer is wrong my child.”

Scenes of my life again flash in front of me. This time slower, allowing me to understand what I’m looking at. I see myself next to my sons bed telling him to trust his mom, telling him that everything would be ok. Helping my granddaughter move into her first apartment, telling her how strong and smart she was. Finally, I see myself on my knees as a young mother asking God to forgive me, asking others in my life to forgive my wrong doings. I not only see the scenes differently this time but now I feel the hope that I gave during those times.

“Rise child. You felt the pain you caused many others while you were in the fortress of nothing. You felt the uncertainty and the fear your own actions forced onto others. But now you also felt the hope you gave to others and the forgiveness that was given to you during your challenging times. You are home now. It is enough.”

Love washed over me, how had this happened? I was convinced that my life would send me strait to hell. Yes, I changed, I asked for forgiveness, but I was a sinner, not a saint. How could I be forgiven?

“Child you are a sinner, as is everyone. During many parts of your life, you were packing your bags to hell, but I spend more time with sinners then with saints. I heard your cries when you needed me just like you heard your child’s cries when they needed you. You went to them, reprimanded them if it was warranted and then met their needs. It is no different then what I do for my own children who call out to me asking for forgiveness. You were right when you took nothing with you to come here. You don’t need anything in Heaven.

The tears are upon me and my heart is soaring. It is filled with something that words cannot describe. My questions are answered. After all I did wrong it was enough to ask forgiveness, to believe and to be willing to change. It’s enough for him.