Out in the field, heaven has sprung yet another leak. They called me immediately to go and take care of it because I’m their go-to person. When paradise needs something done quickly, I’m always ready to take on the job. This line of work isn’t easy. You have to be ready at a moment’s notice. Day or night, warm weather or dreadfully cold weather, it doesn’t matter. You have to be ready and raring to go. You have to be willing to travel quite a bit, and you’ve got to be quick and sure on your feet.
Most of all, you must engage in continuous and ongoing education. Heaven is always finding new ways to sneak
into the world, and it’s my job to find those ways and document them so I can
keep up with the pattern. After doing
that, I then have to control the leak so that it has a smooth and slow entrance
into the Earth instead a sudden splash that is over too quickly and goes
unnoticed. I’m often successful,
although not always. As I said, heaven
is always finding new ways to sneak into the world.
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| Heaven has sprung yet another leak. |
Part of my education is recognizing what comprises
heaven. That can be difficult. I have yet to see angels with wings playing
golden harps or blowing on golden trumpets.
I have yet to see pearly gates or the Elysian fields filled with people
feasting and making merry or a diamond-studded Hall of Justice. It doesn’t mean I won’t ever see these
things; I just haven’t seen them yet.
What I usually look for in the beginning are the telltale
signs of heaven. Golden rays of sunshine
filtering through all-encompassing darkness are usually a sure-fire sign of
heaven. Spectacular displays of
waterfalls or waves frozen in midair are another definite sign. Other signs include swift and furtive animals
playing in the woods when they think no human can see them, fields swollen with
ripened grains, buckets filled with fresh cow’s milk, birds of prey flying into
the wind, and a vast and comforting silence.
These are only a few signs, of course.
There are countless signs, really, and they are growing daily.
Sometimes I’ll pass a small cabin that has long since seen
its better days and I’ll see smoke curling out of the tiny chimney, and I’ll
say to myself, “Yep, there’s heaven sneaking in again.” Sometimes I’ll see a man walking down an
empty road with a snow shovel slung over his shoulder, heading to a neighbor’s
house to help out, and I’ll know that a bit of heaven has leaked yet
again. Other times I’ll see an animal
that is dying from natural causes and an old farmer helps it to exit quickly,
and I’ll think to myself that heaven has come to take back one of its children
as mercifully as possible. Sneaking
around, yet again.
Because heaven can be anywhere at anytime, I must be ready
at a moment’s notice to capture it in a photo, in my journal, or just in my
memory. Witnessing divinity is humbling,
to say the least. Documenting moments of
sheer beauty or joy or abundance helps them to multiply. It’s infectious by nature and incurable. Finding the carriers sometimes involves real
detective work, but it is a very satisfying job. The pay leaves much to be desired, but the
benefits are out of this world.
