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Going to Heaven. Our final reward. What happens when a good person dies?

Updated on April 21, 2015

Contents

Earning our passage to Heaven

Death comes before Heaven

The arrival in Heaven

The good soul receives its Heavenly reward from God

Heavenly epilogue. A final thought

Music composed for The Heavenly Kitchens

The Holy Trinity was waiting for her.

Earning our passage to Heaven


Mrs Walsh had led a good life. She had brought up four children in the love of God, and through them, she had fourteen lovely grandchildren. She was a strong believer in God, and was certain that the love she had always shown to Jesus Christ throughout her long life would assure her a place, in bliss, by her saviour’s side for all eternity. The husband, that had been her life partner, had departed this world five years ago, and when she prayed to God, alone in her room, she always commended him to The Divine Mercy, and she looked forward to being reunited with him in the fullness of time.



She had always been a charitable woman. There were plenty of fat prosperous Africans, who would have died of childhood starvation, if Mrs Walsh had not contributed generously throughout her life to the various relief charities. During her working life she had been a religious education teacher, and she had imparted the great love of God, that she had possessed in full measure to generations of bright faced children.



In her retirement she had worked almost full time in a charity shop. Mrs Walsh really did believe in spreading the love.



It was during a shift in the charity shop that she had the stroke. She was straightening some dresses on the ladies rack at the back of the shop, when she suddenly felt a weakness down the right side of her body, from her face to her toes. She discovered that she could not support herself on her right side, and she just crumpled down in the corner of the shop, with all the ladies dresses, and blouses, collapsed on top of her quivering body. She tried calling out for help, but all that the people at the front heard was someone calling Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! The paralysis that had affected her entire right side meant that her voice was reduced to this undignified almost grunt.



Three hours later, the very sick old lady, was in a bed in the hospital. Her family had been summoned, and three of her children, with seven of her weeping grandchildren were gathered around her bed.



The doctor had earlier spoken to her white faced elder son. The news that he gave was not very good. Years of hard work, and devotion to the welfare of her fellows, had taken its toll on the constitution. Mrs Walsh was not long for this world.




Death comes before Heaven

The old, now dying, Mrs Walsh lay in the metal framed bed in the brightly lit hospital ward. It would have been nice if she could have breathed her last in a private room, but the charitable lady had, all her life, preferred to give money to the poor, rather than buy private health insurance; so she just had the stark comforts of a public ward in which to shuffle off her mortal coil. The nurses had pulled some curtains round the bed, so there was a slight amount of privacy. But that was all.

Most of the time the dying woman lay with her eyes shut. She knew she was near her end. It didn’t bother her. Her strong faith had thought her that, even though she was leaving her loving family, Jesus had promised that she would see them all again, and in a far better place. She also felt certain that she would be reunited with her beloved husband. It was all to look forward to really.

She did open her eyes for one brief period. But her expiring gaze did not focus on the family that were gathered close to the metal bed. To those around her, she seemed to be looking at something just beyond the group. She was. Jesus was beckoning to His faithful handmaiden. Two minutes later the soul just slipped out of the body of Mrs Walsh. There was no struggle. Her remains just stopped breathing. It was as if she had just stepped out the door of her house, and silently closed it behind her.

The children, and the grandchildren, just felt an aura of blessed peace at that moment. They wept silently, but there was no outpouring of violent grief.

The arrival in Heaven

The view from the ceiling of the hospital ward only occupied Mrs Walsh for a minute or two. She really had only enough time to notice her eldest daughter closing the eyes on what had once been her. The fact that there were cobwebs in the corners of the hospital ward also took her notice.

“They will need ladders to clean them” she thought. Then she just floated through the ceiling. She floated rather quickly upwards, through the remaining stories of the building. It was as if she were going up in an invisible lift. After about ten seconds, she emerged onto the hospital roof. The realisation that she must be dead was somehow exciting. She knew that she had a journey ahead of her, and she was really looking forward to it.

The soul of the dead woman felt her eyes drawn to the edge of the hospital roof. A set of seven golden steps mounted up to a shimmering pearl coloured entrance. Mrs Walsh skipped merrily up the steps. All the aches and pains, that old age had afflicted her aging body with, seemed to have completely vanished.

On the seventh step there was an intake of breath from the recently alive woman. Instead of the long corridor that she had expected to see, with the Heavenly glow at the end, there were two enormous long tables. Seated at these tables were what must have been thousands of angels. They were all wearing glowing white robes, and each of them had a pair of huge mother of pearl coloured wings attached to their back.

All the Angelic Host were busily tucking into their dinner. The food on the silver plates looked and smelled really good.

The angels, sitting nearest to where Mrs Walsh stood wonderstruck, paused in their eating for a moment. They smiled, and waved their knives and forks in a very inviting manner. The old woman felt that she was among great friends. She entered Heaven.

“This is just brilliant” she thought. “I can’t wait to meet Jesus”.

The two long tables stretched away into the distance. At the very end of a room that must have been at least a quarter mile long, there was a dais, and on it was a top table.

Mrs Walsh’s ethereal heart skipped a beat when she recognised the larger than life size occupants who were dining there.

On the right there was a man with white hair and a beard. To look at him was to see all the wisdom of all the ages in his benevolent and loving countenance. She knew immediately Who that was. There could be only one God The Father. On the left hand side was a figure who Mrs Walsh had longed all her life to see. Jesus Christ looked just like He did in the picture that had hung above her bed when she was young.

He didn’t look a day over thirty three. There was no crown of thorns, and no sign of any blood. “He must have healed after He ascended into Heaven” was the thought that drifted into the mind of Mrs Walsh, as she started to make her way towards the dais.

There was a white dove hovering in the middle, between Jesus and The Father. Sometimes the bird would dart between the other two. The words of The Nicene Creed were being played out in front of her.

“I believe in The Holy Spirit. The Lord and Giver of Life.

Who proceeds from The Father and The Son.

Who together with The Father and The Son

Is adored and glorified”.

“I am in the presence of The Blessed Trinity”. Mrs Walsh could not have been happier.

The good soul receives its Heavenly reward from God

As she proceeded towards The Divine Presence, the angels ceased their eating. They started to bang their knives and forks on the table, and they started a rhythmic chant.

This is what they were shouting.

“Mrs Walsh! Mrs Walsh! Hallelujah! Mrs Walsh"!

Even though she had been humble all her life, Mrs Walsh could scarce refrain from bowing graciously, and waving regally at her angelic admirers, as she processed through the rows. She had never felt so much like a queen before in her life.

As she got closer to the top table Mrs Walsh noticed that there were great golden double doors in the wall at the very end of the room.

“That must be the way to The Heavenly Mansions” she thought. “I will meet my beloved again there”.

There was also a big banner strung over the table where The Blessed Trinity sat, and hovered.

All she could read was “Mrs Walsh”in very large letters. There was some smaller writing as well, but it was too far for her to read what it said.

“It is probably saying, welcome to your eternal salvation or something like that” she told herself.

As she got nearer to the head of the room, the angels got even more excited. They were standing up now.

“Mrs Walsh! Mrs Walsh! Hallelujah! Mrs Walsh"!

The enormous chamber almost shook from the noise.

She reached the foot of the dais. Her heart swelled with ecstasy. She was in the presence of Her God.

Two strong angelic arms grabbed Mrs Walsh from behind. Her hands were tied roughly behind her. Someone else pulled her hair, and jerked her head up so she could see the banner.

She could read it properly now.

This is what it said.

Menu.

Soup of the day.

Mrs Walsh Broth.

The angels hustled her through the golden doors. Just before she was dragged into the room beyond, she noticed a sign on the doors. It said.

Kitchen. Staff only.

The last thing she saw, before she was thrown like a lobster into the huge boiling cauldron that occupied the range at the end of this room, was the enormous chef’s hats that the two angels were wearing.

Outside, at the top table, The Father was talking to The Son.

“I can’t believe that they are still falling for it. They seem to think that I morphed from the psychopathic God of the Old Testament, who ordered the deaths of millions, into the wishy washy version, who promised them all eternal life in the first century.

The only reason we made them was because we had all these angels to feed”.

“Yes Daddy”, Jesus said. “People are such fools. I enjoyed inventing The Devil. For a fictional character he has been very effective. Yes Old Beelzebub has certainly sufficed to draw away attention from the truth of Our character.

Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

The late Mrs Walsh simmered gently in the kitchen. The Heavenly Host would eat well tonight.

Heavenly epilogue. A final thought

When The Nazis wanted to get the prisoners to go quietly into the gas chambers, they kept secret the truth of where the victims were destined to end up.

Perhaps that was not such an original idea after all.

Music composed for The Heavenly Kitchens

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