“I’ve never done this before,” I nervously stated to the man to my right. At least I think he was a man. Here in the waiting room to heaven, it was tough to be sure. What with everyone being made of light and all.

“None of us has. But everyone has to walk past us after leaving the Room, and since I’ve been here one person more than you, I can assure you that people seem unbelievably peaceful when they exit.”

“Yeah, but I’m still intimidated,” I admitted. “I mean, He’s God. What does He say in there?”

“You don’t know? This is the final moment of Judgment before Paradise.”

“I thought St. Peter let us in?”

“Oh yes. We’re saved, my friend. But before entering Heaven, we must confront God and be Judged and shown all our sins, before they can be spread far and wide.”

“Seems kind of twisted to me.”

“Trust me, it’s very refreshing. I mean, I haven’t actually partaken of the experience, but like I said, everyone who leaves afterwards are completely peaceful and enter Heaven without a care in the world.”

“I guess you’re right.”

As if on cue, a woman opened the door and left the Room, smile as wide as the Nile. A voice called, “Nigel Vicks, He will see you.”

My conversation partner stood and turned toward me. “I’ll see you on the other side, my brother.”

We shook hands and then he entered the room. I was left alone for a moment, before a woman popped up next to me on the bench. Obviously, God had decided the system would be two people waiting while one was inside. Why was a mystery. Unfortunately, even in death not all questions were answered. The woman next to him asked, “Do you know what’s going to happen?”

“We’re going to have our sins judged, forgiven, and forgotten.”

She claps her hands. “How exciting!”

What’s with these people, I thought to myself, before realizing that even thought is broadcast in Heaven.

“What do you mean by that?” she inquired, not perturbed, just generally curious.

“Okay, well everyone seems so excited to get in there and duke it out with God. It doesn’t seem all that exciting to me. In fact, it’s more terrifying than anything else.”

“But aren’t you comforted by the fact that all your sins will officially be torn asunder?”

“Not exactly, no.”

“Hmm. Maybe you’re just strange, then.”

And she turned away, as if talking to someone else. Even in Heaven, Christians are rude. Then I realized yet again that my thought was broadcast. She rolled her eyes, while the door opened again.

Nigel came out, beaming like the woman before him. My eyebrow raised, while a voice called, “Brandon Monahan, He will see you.”

I gulped and walked toward the door. It was open and waiting for me. I walked through but was shocked to find myself not in a room but in blackness. As if the beginning of a movie, the black was cut by a very small dot of light. It grew and grew until erupting into the brightest of lights, which shook me left and right, up and down. I was surrounded by words and words surrounded me.

“I do, Lord.”

Laughter.

Suddenly the light ended and images flooded me. Not so much inside my head but from everywhere. Everything was split into thousands of tiny events with its own sound and its own description, all of which were caught by my surreal supernatural five senses. I had the ability to hear, taste, touch, see, and smell unlimited amounts of stimuli at once, much of which I wish I hadn’t. I felt the many lustful kisses, tasted the sweet honeysuckle of breasts, many of which meant nothing to me the day after, but so much minutes before. My mouth spouted countless crass jokes, which registered in my ears not simply my own joke but the countless disgusted comments around me, and as if this weren’t twisted enough, the thoughts that occurred in each individual head, thereafter. My mother’s tears split my vision into hundreds; my father’s disappointment a hall of mirrors. I remember, only too well the experience of that room. It was worse than any Hell I’d imagined, or seen from the gates of Heaven. The burning and the torment which had rocked my image below, as I walked a golden bridge had seemed incredibly horrendous before but a sweet blessing compared to now. But what simply pushed the edge of my sanity was the guilt, that overwhelming guilt at knowing that every transgression was not only catalogued by my Father, but hit him harder than even it hit me now. He had suffered more so than I could ever dream, and even then, His promise to wipe it all away seemed so unbelievable yet all too real. When the visions had ended - as it was probably only a second but felt nightmarishly long - I was face to face with my God. The one who had brought me through. My face was not just tear-stained. It felt built upon a foundation of sorrow. A more soluble material could not be found but what passed for bones and flesh in this room. But now, my eyes were set aflame. Blazes and piercing heat burned the sorrow away and left me warm and cozy in the gaze of Him who blesses all! He reached out his hand to me, extending me the love and salvation I’d always desired but never achieved. It was finally my time to be FREE.

I slapped it away and fell back into a sitting position, not caring what it was I was exactly sitting on, as everyone was made of light. God smiled at the gesture, even as I’d feared I was doomed to desertion.

Instead of booming, he whispered softly…

And then He bent forward and kissed my forehead. But He was not simply kissing, He was breathing. He was breathing the new life into me that His Bible had promised in such vague vocabulary. A cross appeared on my forehead and a glow filled my body. I was no longer prideful or humble or happy or sad. Tear eyed or joyous helpless or courageous. I needed no emotion. The one thing that I would never forget about this experience was how radically different it was from Sunday School. I was told that the wonders of Heaven would fill my face with happy tears. That the greatest blessings laid before me could cause nothing more than a joy, which could not be understood in a finite reality. The teacher didn’t use finite reality, of course, but his words meant very much the same. The emotion would be strong. Apparently, he had never read the verse about there being no tears in Heaven. I knew now why that was. Heaven was not a place where every moment brought more joy than the last. Heaven was not a place that filled your taste buds with pastries unthinkable and sights to your eyes not yet imagined. No, Heaven wasn’t even like a movie I’d seen once with the Genie from Aladdin and that football player from Jerry Maguire. Heaven, in fact, was ironically near the opposite. It was a place where one didn’t need emotion. Emotion is only the extension of one’s whole. When I am happy, I am only part of my whole being. When I’m sad, yet another part. In Heaven, I was whole. Truly whole. And being whole like this… I had really no choice but to be supremely bright. I beamed not with joy but with fulfillment. With God as my center, I was a finished puzzle piece. I was whole.

Passing through the next room, the woman looked at me queerly, and I smiled at her. I left her in disarray, yet another broken vessel waiting to be connected and filled. Heaven waited through one final door. And I couldn’t cross that threshold fast enough.