When I was a very little girl, I would look up into the night sky, staring into the vast, endless, ever-expanding darkness as I slowly drifted off to sleep.
I wondered, “Where is heaven? Where does God live? Where is His throne?”
I always ended up with a lump in my throat, feeling very small and wondering how in the world I ended up on the only planet we currently know of that sustains life.
My bedroom was lined with wood paneling, and right next to my pillow was a knot in the paneling which happened to look just like the face in Edvard Munch’s painting, The Scream from 1893.
As I stared at the knot on the wood paneling, I imagined its dark black center was a wormhole into a parallel universe, which led to a wormhole in another parallel universe like endless mirrors. It somehow epitomized how I felt as I pondered the wonders of the galaxy. Whenever a prayer was spoken, it always triggered images of jumping into Lightspeed Hyperspace. Having grown up with Star Trek from as early as I can remember, it always seemed to be the first image that would run through my mind whenever I heard the words, “Our Father who art in Heaven.” This always brought about plenty of material for my imagination to run away with as sleep would slowly descend upon me, I would try to grasp and grapple with eternity.
I asked my Mother and Father,
“wherein this vastness was heaven located? Where does God live?”
I am grateful for their answer. Very simply they said,
“God is everywhere. As intimidated and as overwhelmed as you are by an endless vast space of seeming nothingness, God is not intimidated. In fact, He made it. He is capable of filling it. He fills eternity, an ever-expanding eternity. As we learn more about the universe perhaps, we may learn to understand what others have understood before us.”
My mother would read David’s songs, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.” “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name.” This fact became very real to me. There is a connection between eternity and my heart. God could heal my broken heart, bind up my wounds and in the same breath number all of the stars.
When I was six years old, I asked Jesus to come into my heart. This made so much sense to me. As I sat in the back of an old blue GM station wagon inviting Jesus to take away my fear, on October 31, 1989, I marveled. How does an eternal God, enter into a space so small? I didn’t have the answer or even the vocabulary to explain my questions, but I believed. Jesus was a man to me. A man who in every way was the epitome of love. He showed me His love when he died for me. God was fully capable of becoming the man Jesus. If the same God who numbered the stars could become a man who died for me 2,000 years ago, he could fill my heart. I began to grasp why I was made, to be an eternal part of the family of God.