occupations of heaven

Upon my timely death I was met by a fellow with a familiar voice.  He had the appearance of a man in his forties, but I could not place his face.  I had just entered the eternal and there were many people casually standing around, but I did not recognize anyone there.

The man called my name again, he was laying down on his back of what appeared to be a hammock of sorts.  I looked at him and asked, "We have met, but where did we meet?  He stood up as I tried to recognize his face.  As he spoke, some piece of memory surfaced.  This man was once very old and a patient of Gina's.  I had met him as he was laying down in his bed, in his room at a nursing home.  I did not remember his name.  I just remembered that he was a nice old fellow nearing death's door.  He was beyond Earth now, and apparently I was too.

He began to lead me through Heaven.  I can not describe it...It's all very cloudy.  I do remember passing places as our walk and conversation continued.  I wasn't focused on what was being said, I was looking for family.  I didn't see them, but doubt if I would've recognized them, hoping maybe they would recognize me.

Believe it or not there was a point when I quit looking.  There came a place and moment where the conversation ended and the man walked away.  I was standing at a place where I knew I was supposed to be...with things I needed to do.  I had a job.  I was to do this job until whenever.   I knew that whenever this job was done, I would move on to the next occupation.  I didn't mind doing it.  I knew inside my being that the task was for myself.  That, like others there, the job wasn't for any kind of financial gain, but rather for gain of my personal character.

I knew when I died I was not a perfect man.   I didn't mind that I had found myself doing manual work, if it was building something good in me.  I don't know about other souls there, there were others in the fields with me.  I was focused on doing my job.  The outcome of the labor was complete something I never quite finished or started while on Earth. 

I figured I would one day see people that I knew and loved there.  For some reason, I was content with the job at hand.  It didn't bother me whether it took a hundred years or more, to do that work until that work was done.  I knew that I would ever become a better man for it.

This was merely a dream.  It was odd sort of imagery and I am not claiming it to have transpired or to transpire. The dream though has interesting spiritual merit.

look back

look back
over the scarred lands
where those who were once
each became a living sacrifice
for their fellow man
all they had
and could've had
sacrificed all for freedom's sake
look back
before we barter
too freely
for what our fathers
our brothers
paid so dearly
look back
to those who so freely sacrificed
all their security
so that we might keep this liberty
with hope with confidence
that we pick up that standard
take up that fight
from beyond the place
they once fell
look back
this precious paid liberty
fought for died for so dearly
look back
so we do not foolishly surrender
this liberty for any false promise
of security

David B. Finlayson
June 7, 2014