Being Ourselves In Heaven

With what Colton had said about Pop and about his sister, I began to think about heaven in a different way. Not just a place with jeweled gates, shining rivers, and streets of gold, but a realm of joy and fellowship, both for those who are with us in eternity and those still on earth, whose arrival we eagerly anticipated. A place where I would one day walk and talk with my grandfather who had meant so much to me, and with the daughter I had never met.

—HEAVEN IS FOR REAL, 103

Todd

Many of Colton’s stories about heaven have convinced me that we’ll retain our identities there—our quirks, our preferences, our uniqueness. But we will lose the bad stuff—our selfishness, our insecurities, our guilt, sicknesses and disabilities. Even though our heavenly bodies will definitely be better, we’ll still be us. And so will our family members. But they may not be as we remembered them. That’s why I suggest you keep that box of old family photos next to your bed.

Let me explain.

As a firefighter, I’ve seen a lot of house fires, and let me tell you, they rarely happen like you see in the movies. In real life, family members, and even firefighters, don’t have time to develop a dramatic story line while flames roar around them. In real life, you have about five survivable minutes to get out of that house before deadly smoke and toxic fumes overwhelm you. In real life, you may have only ten minutes until the roof collapses. Some modern construction methods can make newer houses far more dangerous than older ones.

You don’t have time to run around looking for your most valuable possessions. You and your family members need to know exactly what you will do when that smoke alarm goes off in the middle of the night (or in the daytime, for that matter). Get the people and get out!

But if you have time to grab maybe one thing besides the people, let me suggest something you might keep close to the bed so you can take it along. What I’m suggesting you take with you out of the fire is that box or album of old photos your mother or grandmother may have given you. You know the one I’m talking about—the box hidden in the back of a closet shelf right now. The box holding that picture of Grandma and Grandpa on their wedding day. The one of your great-granddad the day he went off to war. The pictures that show the previous generations of your family not as they may appear now but as they looked in their prime. Take those photos with you out of the fire.

Why? Because they’ll help you recognize the people who are going to come to greet you when you get to heaven.

As Sonja and I travel the country, we’re asked again and again, “Are we still going to be ourselves in heaven?” and, “How will I recognize my loved ones when I get to heaven?”

Colton’s experiences convince us the answer to the first question is definitely yes. The answer to the second question may depend on whether you’ve studied those old family pictures. Because those who died when they were old or crippled by illness or injury aren’t going to be old or crippled when you see them in heaven. Won’t it be fun to call them by name rather than being like Colton and have to have the relationships explained to you?

It’s not only Colton’s experiences that convince me we’ll retain our identities in heaven. I also base that opinion on the glimpse of heaven the Bible gives us in Matthew 17 when it describes two early Bible characters, Elijah and Moses, who came back to earth as themselves with the same names. While they chatted with Jesus, the apostles Peter, James, and John got to see them and were introduced to them as the same Moses and Elijah whose stories had been told in the Old Testament. They were in their heavenly bodies, and yet there they were on earth, named and recognizable.

When we get to heaven, we will retain our individuality. Our heavenly bodies will be just as diverse as our earthly ones. After all, God didn’t use a cookie-cutter when he made us. God loves individuality and creativity.

But how many of you know that God also loves families? Our relationships with one another, even though they will be better, will still be intact as well. When Colton visited heaven, he was a little boy who still needed to be looked after, and his great-grandfather, Pop, was one of those who did that. After hearing Colton’s story, and having him say that his great-grandfather, Pop, was looking out for him and his sister there, many people who have lost a parent and a child have told us how comforting that thought is—to know that their mom or dad is watching out for their son or daughter in heaven.

It’s another reason that so many people have been impacted by Heaven Is for Real. All of us who believe in heaven have had that hope; Colton’s visit helps confirm it for us.

Interestingly, our family members in heaven recognized Colton before he recognized them. That fact has sent me digging through our own box of old black-and-white photos, studying those faces of my grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts and uncles as they looked in their younger days. When I get to heaven, I want to recognize those loved ones, including those I never even met, and call them by name as they come up to greet me. That makes those old pictures pretty valuable to me. That’s why I suggest they be something you take with you out of a burning house.

Just let me add one more thought. What if your house never catches on fire? Fire or no fire, don’t you think it would still be worth your time to sit down with your kids and study those old pictures anyway? Then, unlike Colton, you or your child may not be surprised when you get to heaven and an unknown little girl, or some other bright-faced person, eager to greet you, comes running up to give you a big hug.

As far as stuff is concerned, is there anything else in your house today that will matter to you when you get to heaven, besides the people in those pictures?

His family will go on forever. His kingdom will last before me like the sun. It will continue forever, like the moon, like a dependable witness in the sky.

—Psalm 89:36–37 NCV