As Christians, we are on a journey. While much of what lies ahead in the earthly part of our journey is shrouded in mystery, uncertainty, and apprehension, the destination is beyond question.

A journey is incomplete without a destination. The destination is what makes the journey worthwhile and is therefore of great interest.

Along the way we may see beautiful sights, meet wonderful people, and travel by exhilarating means of transport. Yet it is the destination that matters most. We research the place, study its people, its culture, its sights and currency with intense interest.

A journey is something we enter into with thought and foresight.

The same is true of the Christian’s journey to heaven.

Some have criticised Christianity for being overly preoccupied with death and the afterlife. But I disagree. The afterlife is what the Christian life is all about. If there is no afterlife there is no Christianity.

Life itself is a preparation for death, and death is the vehicle that translates us into eternity. Christianity is the only faith that prepares us for this journey by guaranteeing us a place in heaven. Heaven is the Christian’s reason for living, serving, and praying. If we are preoccupied with it, it is because heaven is real.

John Bunyan, in his allegory Pilgrim’s Progress, described the pilgrims’ visit to the Shepherds on the Delectable Mountains.

From this vantage point, using the telescope of faith, they caught their first sight of the shining city to which they were travelling.

When we open the Scriptures in Revelation chapters 21 and 22, we too catch sight of our destination.

Few places hold greater interest for the Christian than journey’s end, our heavenly home. As heaven becomes increasingly populated with our loved ones, it takes on new meaning. It becomes more personal, more real.

As the years advance and our own steps grow slower, the nearness of heaven intensifies our longing. Life’s struggles, sickness, pain, grief, disappointment, and age all increase our hunger for the place Christians call home.

Spiritual maturity and a growing awareness of Christ’s love only deepen our appetite for the place of many mansions.

One of the striking features of Revelation’s description of heaven is what is not there. John the Divine seems to look back at the familiar things of this world—yet these are absent in eternity. Heaven is unearthly. It is life transformed, the dawning of eternity after the trials of the journey. Eternal life defies comparison; all things are made new.

No More Curse

The curse upon the world was the immediate effect of sin. Adam’s world moved from Eden to a life of sweat and toil, and it has remained so ever since. This curse lies beneath every cry that rises from our broken world. But in heaven the curse is gone. Paradise returns to the soul of man.

No More Tears or Sorrow

The sorrow of this world often finds its voice in tears. Tears make us human; they are tangible evidence of pain and loss. In heaven, however, every tear is wiped away by the greatest Comforter. Heaven is a place of unparalleled joy.

No More Death

The grim shadow of the grave haunts us all through life. Yet in heaven, death itself is no more. Eternal day dawns, and the darkness of mortality disappears forever.

No More Sea

The sea divides humanity. It separates nations, cultures, and languages. Even in today’s jet-setting age, oceans remind us of difference and distance. But in heaven there is one people, united in Christ. No cultural barriers, no ethnic divides—the Church is one glorious bride.

No More Temple

No spires or domes will adorn the skyline of the New Jerusalem. Heaven itself is one vast theatre of praise. On earth our worship is fleeting; in heaven it is eternal. It is the ultimate Sabbath, the great gathering of all believers from every nation.

And in that eternal fellowship we shall know each other. Every name written, every face beloved will be recognised. Heaven will be a place of new acquaintances and joyful reunions. Like the patriarchs, we will be gathered to our people—those we love, cherish, and know.

Christ at the Centre

These “negatives” become glorious positives, because at the centre of heaven is Christ Himself.

His wounds remind us how He removed the curse—by hanging on the cursed tree.

His tears at Lazarus’ tomb remind us He was a man of sorrows. His death—the most tragic and victorious in history—swallowed death in victory.

His commission to go into all the world points to the day when there will be no more separation.

Throughout eternity Christ will be our Shepherd. He will supply us with living water. We will serve Him day and night, forever with the Lord.

Comfort for Broken Hearts

The saints in heaven cannot speak to us, but Scripture helps us imagine their joy. To bring comfort, let us hear it expressed as if they wrote us a letter.

A Letter from Heaven

To My Family & Friends on Earth

Weep not for me; I want you to understand where I am.

I am home in my Father’s house, in the room prepared for me. I have dropped anchor in a quiet harbour. My day’s labour is past, and now I am resting.

Weep not for me; I am free from all that made life so difficult.

There is no suffering here. No hospitals, no funerals, no prisons, no armies. Tears are wiped away. Fear is banished. All is peace. Everywhere is love.

Weep not for me; hear how I am.

Grace has blossomed into glory. I see God face to face in Jesus Christ. His wounds speak of His love. His smile has welcomed me. I drink from the fountain of delights. Words cannot contain my joy.

Weep not for me; let me tell you what I am doing.

I keep a Sabbath that never ends. I serve gladly, I sing ceaselessly, I praise Him without weariness. My song is new, my joy unending.

Weep not for me; let me tell you of my companions.

Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Paul, Peter, James, John—all are here. So too are my loved ones, my teachers, my pastors, and friends in Christ. Empty seats on earth are now filled. Together we rejoice in the presence of Him who loved us and gave Himself for us.

Weep not for me; now I know as I am known.

I see God’s hand in every step of life. Dark threads I once questioned now shine with meaning. The beauty of Christ fills my soul.

So weep not for me. Rejoice instead that I am where I longed to be. My crown will never fade, my joy will never end.

A Final Word

For my Christian family: let the hope of heaven inspire you. Make your calling and election sure. Be steadfast and unmovable in the work of the Lord. Time is short; eternity is near. Live for Christ before it is too late.

But for those who do not yet know Christ: do not weep for me—weep for yourselves. Repent, and come to Jesus. There is room in heaven for you, because there is room at the cross. I am where He is, and I have prayed that you might be where I now am.

POSTSCRIPT

This piece of work was influenced by Octavius Winslow entitled:

PISGAH VIEWS or, THE NEGATIVE ASPECTS OF HEAVEN

You can read this work here:

Contained in this book was a beautiful imaginary account of what a loved one in Heaven may well be saying to us here on earth. This prompted the idea “A Letter from Heaven”.

“Could we catch the voice of the glorified one, over whose grave we rain our warm tears of grief, would not its utterances be like these?–“Would you know WHERE I am? I am at home in my Father’s house, in the mansion prepared for me there. I am where I want to be, where I have long and often desired to be–no longer on a stormy sea, but in a safe and quiet harbor. My working time is done, I am resting; my sowing time is done, I am reaping; my joy is as the time of harvest. Would you know HOW it is with me? I am made perfect in holiness; grace is swallowed up in glory; the top-stone of the building is brought forth. Would you know WHAT I am doing? I see God; I see Him as He is, not as through a glass, darkly, but face to face; and the sight is transforming; it makes me like Him. I am in the sweet employment of my blessed Redeemer, my Head and Husband, whom my soul loved, and for whose sake I was willing to part with it all. I am here bathing myself at the spring-head of heavenly pleasures and joys unutterable; and, therefore, weep not for me. I am here keeping a perpetual Sabbath; what that is, judge by your short Sabbaths. I am here singing hallelujahs incessantly to Him who sits upon the throne; and rest not day or night from praising Him. Would you know what COMPANY I have? Blessed company, better than the best on earth–here are holy angels and the spirits of just men made perfect. I am seated with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of God, with blessed Paul and Peter, and James and John, and all the saints; and here I meet with many of my old acquaintance that I fasted and prayed with, who got here before me. And lastly, would you consider how LONG this to is continue? It is a garland that never withers; a crown of glory that fades not away; after millions of millions of ages it will be as fresh as it is now; and, therefore, weep not for me.”” (Attributed to Matthew Henry; passage appears in Octavius Winslow’s Pisgah Views)