Heaven Met Me Here

You blink your eyes in wonder, casting quick glances from side-to-side as an uproar fills your ears. It's like that Metallica concert back in 1998, but more...round...more full. Your ears start to tingle and the sound goes deeper. There are people. So many people. Every color. Every language. Every shape. Every size. And everyone is smiling. It looks like midday and you try to feel suffocated by the bodies pressing you from all sides, but you can't seem to manage it. You feel relief. You have the same sensation you had when you ran into your dad's arms after falling off your bike. It consumes you. Tears pool in your eyes, threatening to spill over as the chant is picked up. "Glory to the One seated on the Throne! Glory to His Name! Praise be to Him!" They're saying it in their native tongue, but you understand every word. Spanish, French, Italian, English, Portugese, Fulani, Arabic, Greek, Swahili, Mandarin, and Hebrew. It blends together to create a great chaos of joyful adoration. A wrinkled old man is stooped next to you and you notice the tears flowing freely down his cheeks. His arms are stretched upwards and as you gaze into his shining eyes, his back straightens and he stand proud and whole, shouting out his thanks. The little girl in front of you squeals in delight and you stare amazed as her left leg grows from what use to be a stump. A woman spins in circles, laughing uncontrollably as her scars are removed. A blind man sobs as he sees crimson for the first time. And the hole...that deep, despairing, life-sucking hole in the middle of your chest is being filled. You can hardly breathe as you feel worthy. You feel whole. You feel precious. A small boy tugs on your shirt and when you lean close, he whispers. "That man woke me up in the middle of the night. He told me to pray for you. I'm so glad you're standing next to me." You lift him on your shoulders and press forward. The light gets brighter and the singing grows louder. Soldiers drop to their knees, battered men lifting their faces towards the One seated. His name is shouted over and over. Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Hands are joined and the circle stretches for miles and miles. A teenage girl squeezes your hand and her eyes smile into yours. "I can forgive him." she says. "Do you see him? He's here." You quickly scan the row of bodies and lock eyes with a Chinese prison guard. His bruises fade as you watch and he grins. "He beat and raped me for three years. He wanted to know why I cried out for Him. He said there was no hope. Then He gave him hope." She giggled and the dance began. The walls of heaven shook as thousands upon thousands of people danced the same rhythm, always giving glory. You see Him rise from His throne, His laughter booming across the ages. You fall to your knees as He speaks. Do you see now? Do you begin to understand the depths of my love? Are you able to comprehend your worth? He stretches out His hand and you hold on for all your worth. He spins you around and around, laughing. There is deafening applause and a clamor of cheering. You're home.