A View from Heaven

The Hill

The walk up the hillside was beautiful, easier than I thought, and surprisingly quick. I’m not sure why I waited so long to pursue the summit. It seemed like minimal time and effort to comfortably stroll to the top. There was even a perfect tree to lean against to view the panoramic sights below.

The Sound

I was nudged from a peaceful daydream by the sound of singing and music. It was a sound that I had never heard before, perhaps of a language that had not yet been vocalized. It rang across the valley in harmonies that were precise and pure, in tones no human could be capable of. Yet its words were sweet, and somehow I understood them.

The sound of singing was loud and quiet, close and far. I felt as if it had weight and flavour. I could feel it rest in my hands and taste it on the edges of my lips.

I wanted to sing along as it seemed a familiar tune. I was not sure if I had just witnessed the birth of a new aria. My senses were alive and excited, but also at peace and rest.

The Lights

I was about to open my mouth to sing along when lights vaulted across the sky. They were magnificent, dancing from the North to the South, then weaving and exploding from West to East. The magnitude of the size and colors of the lights exhausted my vocabulary of description. They continued to rise from some unknown origin faster than my eyes could follow. They revealed colours and designs that were more graphic than a child’s imagination. They lit up an already clear and bright sky.

The Smells

I was going to stand to applaud the array of dancing beams when I became nearly intoxicated with fragrances assaulting my senses. It smelled like a memory of home, peace, and love entwined. Where did the aroma of fragrances originate – my mother’s womb, a compilation of years of Christmas trees, nearly forgotten hopes and dreams?

The Secrets

The fragrances mixed with memories and began to leak from my eyes. That is when I could barely contain the weight of pleasure. I felt the heaviness of a hand pushing on my chest. I could tell that secret treasures, things not meant to be exposed, were being pulled from my insides. It was wonderfully scary and like a death that brought life.

Years of pain and stiffness left my body, youth made my bones journey with the Eagle and laughter filled my lungs. Some hidden joy that was full of nonsense wiggled its way from my toes to my mouth, pushing back years of gravel and bumps. Velvet strips of peace brushed over my skin and there was no question that something spectacular had willingly visited me.

This all took place in a moment, in a lifetime.

With both a lightness in my heart and a longing in my soul, I started down the path to the bottom of the hill. I didn’t want to leave, but I was drawn to the bottom to seek answers to my experience.

The Sage

As I slowly followed the worn path toward the bottom of the hill, I met an old Sage walking up. He asked if I had reached the top.

I told him of my experience and how I longed for the pictures I saw to flash through my eyes, ears, and heart again.

He graciously quenched my need for understanding by explaining that what I had seen were sights from Heaven’s view. Before I could ask, “What could possibly cause these sights to happen?” the Sage rested his aged, old hand on his heart and began to explain that each song I heard in the breeze, every light I saw in my heart, all the aromas of blessing I smelled, were caused by one thing.

I begged him to tell me.

He smiled as a gentle tear slid from his eyes. He beckoned me to draw closer.

He told me I was watching prayer.

PRAYER DEVOTIONAL

Prayer

“Another angel, who had a golden censer, came and stood at the altar. He was given much incense to offer, with the prayers of all God’s people, on the golden altar in front of the throne. The smoke of the incense, together with the prayers of God’s people, went up before God from the angel’s hand.” (Revelation 8:3-4 NIV)