It was a beautiful dream. 
Full of shining mountains and no pain and no tears among rolling hills with someone to love her heart. 
Then the dream flew away.

What do you dream of when you dream of Paradise?

Some dream of Hawaii’s sparkling beaches with its sun-bleached sand and blue crashing waves. Some dream of snow-capped mountains hugging icy glaciers with pristine evergreens calming its slopes. Some dream of drowning in their own pleasures. Some dream of a place to escape their pain. Some dream of clouds and harps. Some dream of all they ever loved in one place. Some try not to think of it. All a dream, dream, dream, going on and on and on while living life drains the dream. . . yet the lack of the dream sucks the life from them.

That dream, the small whisper of genuine reality. 

I wonder if Coldplay’s new song “Paradise”, the best-selling precursor to their next album, will get people thinking about life after death. After being in prayer and worship for six hours before I heard the song, it certainly made me think of Paradise again. But what about the rest of the world? I’d be interested to talk to people. There’s plenty of ideas out there. I want to be able to boldly proclaim truth, but be able to listen. Hear from people. Think about afterlife with them and imagine something I’ve never thought about before. 

The more I try to think of it I absolutely have no idea. I mean, we’ve got some idea. But really, truly, when you think of practicality and logistics and time and space does any of it make sense? And is it supposed to? 

Living in the present is cool and all, but something you realize as you hit adulthood. . . if you don’t live for the future you’re going to be a very unhappy camper. Unless, of course, you’re living for the future of a calm retirement, because when you reach that you still won’t be happy. Life, life, life fading away on pleasure and selfishness and comfort and when we leave life is that our legacy? What a exceptional legacy, that we bought nice things and ate good food and lived in a fancy house! Or even more chilling, that we lived a life knowing true Paradise but barely did anything about it. We never dreamed. 

Guilty, guilty am I for the lack of a dream. Guilty am I for walking through the supermarket comforted in the fact that I will be in paradise but not thinking of the lady in the line in front of me. It’s all too scary isn’t it? Our reputation hanging on a thread, ready to be snapped with the utterance of “Jesus”. Guilty am I for happily thinking of my grandparents living their eternal life, while not thinking of family that did not make it there. Hiding behind my fine written words, I have the right heart but can’t exactly get the spoken word past my mouth. I guess that makes me all the more dependent on the one whose name I want to say.

But I would like to ask someone what they dream of when they dream of paradise.

Because that girl who dreams of being with the one she loves? She’s got it.


And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice saying, 

“Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

Can we not dream? 

I will. 
I will dream of love.
In doing so, may I love with confidence. . . 

For He loves me.