“See you later Dad.” “Be careful son.”

-Hey Son. What do you see up there?

Now Dad, you know I don’t have my eyes yet. I’m waiting for my new body and won’t be able to “see” until resurrection day. You know that.

-Yeah, I figured as much, but I still thought you could fill me in a little on what you could tell out of your spiritual awareness.

And I was just going to do that. I am in quite a company you know. I met my angel that has always attended me, and many more I encounter every day. Grandpa and Grandma are here, and John, and too many others to name right now. We have joy unspeakable. I sense my surroundings and have what you might call super-knowledge. We have no use of such terms up here, no superlatives, just being. While we speak of it, stop trying to define joy. You will not quite get to it. It is heavenly and can only be grasped and held on to up here. We visit a lot, and Jesus greeted me when I arrived. That was indescribable as you could guess. I would try to describe it but the fact ruins the narrative. I know He is around everywhere and anytime (but not at the same time, that is, what would destroy sequence), and have caught “glimpses” of Him since. Later I will get my one on one with Him. That is a bit scary, but I look forward to and welcome it. I need to shed a few pounds to get into shape for the big climb.

-Some of that is hard to follow, son. The Spirit allows me some knowledge, all I can handle I guess, and my imagination can soar with the best but still I have many questions.

Sure. Hey, you know, some of my things were here before I arrived.

-What do you mean?

My conversation was already here for one thing. I didn’t have to learn a heavenly language or need translators. My talents were here and some of my treasures locked away and secure. And oh, I have a new name, or will have finally. I can’t speak it to you nor would you be able now to hear it, but it fits me nicely, perfectly I should say. I am aware that my new home is almost ready. I sense it bright and clear, whereas on earth it seemed kind of opaque; dim and foggy. Believe it or not, I know my way around already.

-I’m listening, keep talking.

I have rights of citizenship and a sense of fitting in. There are a thousand thousands angels and a vast multitude of kindred spirits from every age of the earth. We are all alike in essence but all different in particularities. I think I am still an athlete. My compassion and wish to serve is stronger than ever. All of us here, we all belong. I love our bright distinctions. I love my neighbors. I think there is a door of admittance and there are many windows. We can see you, but we don’t pay a lot of attention to all your doings. We witness your struggle and share in your happy times but not to the distress and interruption of our heavenly discoveries. Time does not pass here, it unfolds and curls and waves. I see you here, but not yet. There is news every morning. Great is His faithfulness.

-But what is The Place like, can you describe some part? We are running out of time here.

It is like stepping into beauty. There is a sense of openness and liberty, and great glory. Righteousness pervades every nook, discouragement has no meaning. There are gardens everywhere and waterfalls over rivers like crystal. There are many trees, Oh, and you can smell the colors but I cannot articulate that correctly. It is indeed the Promised land. I was carried here by angels and they accompanied me that one night I visited you…remember?

-Yes, vividly. See you later son.

Be careful Dad.

Joshua Mitchell Cox September 16, 1973 - May 18, 1992