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.
|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.