I attended a funeral to pay respects to a 62-year-old man who had died from pancreatic cancer. This graveside service lifted my heart—for more than one reason. We sang hymn after hymn about heaven. If you know me, you’ll know that’s one of my all-time favorite things to do. His relatives sang with a robust passion, clearly convinced of the Better Country to which we are all heading.
As I began to wheel away after the service, Michelle, the deceased man’s 20-year-old daughter, ran up and stopped me. Dabbing her eyes and with an unsteady voice, she shared a conversation she’d had with her dad the day before he passed away.
She explained that her father had been very restless that day, unwilling to let go. When she asked him why he seemed so agitated—even anxious—he sighed and hoarsely whispered, “Oh honey… I grieve that I won’t be here to walk you down the aisle.”
Mustering every effort to console her precious father, Michelle replied, “Oh Daddy, please don’t let that bother you. After all, you are a man of Hebrews 11. You are heading for a Better Country. There’s nothing to miss about my earthly wedding. My dress will fade and become torn. My wedding photos will yellow with age. My body will grow old and turn to dust. But everything in heaven will last forever, and I will meet you at the real wedding on the other side!”
Immediately, Michelle’s dad relaxed, and a smile came over his face. They both knew that what she had said was true. The next day he let go of his grip on this world and peacefully entered heaven.
Before I wheeled away, Michelle told me, “You know what, Joni? I meant everything I said to him. I meant it. Heaven will be that good.”
Michelle, heartbroken as she may have been, was so right. Heaven is that good because God is that good.
Heaven is a Better Country—not because of its location, its scenery, its cities, its rewards, its duration, or all the wonders that “eye has not seen nor ear heard nor heart imagined.” Heaven is a Better Country because of the One who will open the gate for us and welcome us home, the One who waits for us at this very moment: Savior. God with us. Advocate. Friend of Sinners.
Heaven is not a continent-sized New Jerusalem, descending like a multi-dimensional, spectral star. It’s not merely the river of life, and the rustle of healing leaves on the magnificent trees lining its banks. Heaven is not even your made-just-for-you residence in the safety and splendor of the Father’s house. When you think of heaven, set aside all the “things” that you normally envision—gold streets, pearl gates, and rainbow thrones. After all, those are simply signposts pointing you to a much better Reality than 24-karat asphalt, or a big pearl swinging on hinges.
Jesus is the one who makes heaven a home. To think about heaven is to think about Jesus. To pursue heaven with your heart is to pursue Him. Jesus is who makes the Better Country better.
So, I am with Michelle. And her daddy, too. Sure, I like earth, and my hometown in California is nice, but it pales in the light of one day feeling my Savior’s embrace. Home is pretty good here, but I long for the day when “I shall see the King in his beauty and a land that stretches afar” (Isa. 33:17). I have a glorious homesickness for heaven, and it’s because I’m in love with Jesus. And like anyone who’s in love, I want to be where my Beloved is—that glorious, Better Country.
In the meantime? Make the most of every opportunity to speak about your King and his Country. Issue “Gospel-passports” to your neighbors, family, friends, and coworkers. Because I want to see not only you, but your loved ones in heaven. And once you are in that Better Country, how will you know me? Somehow, I don’t think that will even be an issue. But just in case, look for the radiant young woman who never stops running, leaping, and dancing—and never lets Jesus out of her sight for even a minute.
