About a year after my grandmother died, I had a dream. I walked into her kitchen and was so excited to see my grandmother, my grandfather, and my mother. Even while I was dreaming, I was aware that they are all in heaven now, and yet I felt as if I was truly there with them. I was overjoyed to be able to see them again.
Grandma was cooking on her 1940’s stovetop. During her life, she was always cooking. She could conjure up a satisfying meal with the most meager of ingredients in no time at all. Having lived during the depression, she never wasted a thing.
“Don’t throw away that last piece of celery,” she retorted once.
”But grandma, it’s limp,” I replied.
“It’s perfectly good to cook with,” she said.
But now she had no concerns. While she cooked, she also danced. Now, I have never seen anyone dance quite like this. It was a dance of pure joy. Oh, how beautiful she looked. She appeared to be around age forty, which is about half the age she was when she passed away. She cooked and she danced, twirling around with spatula in hand, all the while the flame was burning. She was having so much fun. She was having the time of her life.
My mother was sitting in the kitchen partaking of the festive atmosphere and my grandfather sat just outside the kitchen window. All were having such a good time chatting with one another. When I walked into the kitchen, my grandmother paused for just a moment to give me a hug, but swiftly returned to her dancing and cooking without a care in all of heaven.
I woke from the dream with such a good feeling. It was so crisp and fresh in my mind. I felt as if I had actually just returned from seeing them. Throughout the day snapshots from the dream would flash in my mind and I would smile in remembrance of it.
Later that day, as I stood at my own kitchen window, my eyes fell to the lock. Recalling the image of my grandfather, sitting outside the kitchen window, suddenly seemed very odd to me. Why was he sitting outside the window? Why was he not inside with everyone else? When I searched my memory of the dream, I realized that there was no lock on the window in my dream, because there was no window. There was just an opening where the window used to be. The outside was now an extension of the inside of the home.
How interesting, I thought. But then, of course, there would be no windows in heaven. There is no need of them. Windows aren’t needed to keep out the storms, because there are no storms in heaven. Nor would locks be needed to keep out thieves, because there are no thieves in heaven. Windows and locks may be essential here on earth but in heaven they would make no sense at all.
Now, I don’t know if when we dream whether we are able to catch a glimpse of heaven, but I do know this: someday we will be reunited with those we love and will live in perfection and complete joy throughout eternity. Jesus assures us, “In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you.” (John 14:2-NIV)
Scripture doesn’t mention much else about what these rooms will look like, at least as far as I recall, but I have to wonder if one of those rooms looks exactly like my grandma’s kitchen, other than a minor renovation to the window.
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