Lately, the phrase “walking barefoot in the fields of heaven” has been repeating itself in my mind. Just thinking about those words gives me an extraordinary sense of joy and I think I’ve discovered why.
As a child, I loved going barefoot. I didn’t, however, love stubbed toes, beestings, or any other affliction associated with being shoeless. That’s why “walking barefoot in the fields of heaven” sounded to me like the epitome of wonderful.
Surely in heaven there would be no bees to sting and the grass would be a soft, velvety cushion of green beneath one’s feet. For as far as you could see, there would be field flowers of every hue and description, blowing amiably back and forth in a breeze of both perfect temperature and intensity. The sun overhead would contain no UV rays to harm, only the warmth God intended. The sky would always be an azure blue and clouds would have permanent silver linings. Laughter would be present too as children of all ages, and that includes adults who had thrown off bonds of proper behavior, cavorted and sang and twirled about in blissful freedom from earth’s restrictions.
Each of us has in their mind and heart a picture of heaven and this is mine. Yours may be totally different and yet equally wonderful.
I like not knowing details about Heaven. I am comfortable knowing that the God who created me and knows me inside out, will also be the God who makes Heaven perfect.
So whether you adhere to the old spiritual and sing, “When I get to heaven, gonna’ put on my shoes, and walk all over God’s heaven” or you care to join me in barefoot revelry, it really doesn’t matter.