Several years ago I traveled to South America to attend a family wedding and there I caught a glimpse of heaven.
As my husband, daughter and I flew southeast from San Francisco, then further south, the culture changed from the friendly color of Costa Rica, to the financial powerhouse of Panama to the sultry drama of the world’s center of narco-terrorism: Cali, Colombia.
My husband is an old hand in South America, having traveled there three times on a submarine during the 1980’s when the Shining Path guerrilla group regularly slaughtered innocent bystanders. He wasn’t worried at all.
I was.
Safety first
The bride and groom met us at the airport the first night and escorted us to our hotel. They warned us not to leave the hotel without one of the bride’s Colombian relatives.
The hotel guard cradling an AK-47 at the lobby entrance convinced me not to set foot out the door. We were safe inside.
At the appointed hour the next morning, we met the bride and groom in the lobby. After a quick kiss and hug, they waved us out the door. “Turn the corner and climb on the bus.”
The sun felt warm and suspiciously inviting. Cars drove past, horns honked, pedestrians hurried by. The guard shifted his machine gun and pointed to an idling bus.
We couldn’t see in the darkened windows, but when the door opened, I grabbed a handrail and climbed in.
Blinking in the narrow aisle, I paused while my daughter pushed in behind me.
I gasped.
People I loved filled the seats.
My aunt and uncle, three cousins, several second cousins, even the sister of a cousin-in-law. Two friends and several Colombian relatives-to-be. My brother showed up later.
They rose to greet us with hugs, kisses, greetings, and a babble of laughter. My husband shook hands, we reintroduced my daughter to people she barely remembered.
Tears started in my eyes and my cheeks ached from smiling.
All I could think was, “this must be what heaven will be like.”
I’d been swept away from all I knew, taken to a place where I didn’t speak the language or know the customs. I’d been afraid and uneasy, uncertain of what to expect.
The bride and groom were friendly, of course, and reassured us. I knew we were in Cali for a celebration. I just didn’t see it until the moment I climbed on that bus.
And there the joy began.
When I think about dying and going to heaven, I often feel uneasy. I’ve read about it in the Bible. I know what will come.
I expect a celebration and an aura of welcoming love. No more tears, no more pain. Heaven is a wonderful place.
Don’t you relish how God gives us a taste of what will come from the loving care of people in our lives?
The Cali bus filled with my family brushed aside fear and uncertainty into confidence and security. Just as entering heaven will for those who believe.
As they say in Colombia, and other points south: “El amor perfecto echa hacia fuera todo el miedo.”
Perfect love casts out all fear–even on this side of heaven.
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A glimpse of heaven on a South American bus. Click to Tweet
From fear to joy from climbing on a bus. Click to Tweet
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