Looking Heavenward

I am publishing this young man’s view of heaven with a thankful heart and the hope that his “file” includes YOUR name.  Written as a homework assignment, I hope you enjoy this young man’s powerful view of heaven. (Please pardon the formatting)
The Room
 In that place between
wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room.
There were no distinguishing
features except for the one wall covered with small index card
They were like the ones in
libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical
But these files, which
stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either
direction, had very different headings.
As I drew near the wall of
files, the first to catch my attention was one that read ” 
Girls I Have Liked.”
I opened it and began flipping
through the cards.
I quickly shut it, shocked to
realize that I recognized the names written on each
And then without being told, I
knew exactly where I was.
This lifeless room with its
small files was a crude catalog system for my life.
Here were written the actions
of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t
A sense of wonder and
curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly
opening files and exploring their content.
Some brought joy and sweet
memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would
look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file
named ”  Friends” was next to one
marked    ”  Friends I Have

The titles ranged from the
mundane to the outright weird.
”  Books I Have
 ”  Lies I Have
 ” Comfort I have Given,”  ” Jokes I
Have Laughed At.”

Some were almost hilarious
in their exactness: ”  Things I’ve Yelled at My
Others I couldn’t laugh at:
”  Things I Have Done in My
Things I Have Muttered Under My
Breath at My Parents.”
I never ceased to be surprised
by the contents.
Often there were many more
cards than expected.
Sometimes fewer than I
I was overwhelmed by the sheer
volume of the life I had lived.

Could it be possible that I had
the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions
of cards?

But each card confirmed this
Each was written in my own
Each signed with my

When I pulled out the file marked ”  TV
Shows I Have Watched,”
   I realized the files grew
to contain their contents.

The cards were packed tightly,
and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the
I shut it, shamed, not so much
by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file
When I came to a file marked
”  Lustful Thoughts,”   I felt a chill
run through my body.
I pulled the file out only an
inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a
I shuddered at its detailed
I felt sick to think that such
a moment had been recorded.
An almost animal rage broke on

One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these

No one must ever see this
I have to destroy
In insane frenzy I yanked the
file out.
Its size didn’t matter
I had to empty it and burn the
But as I took it at one end and
began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single
I became desperate and pulled
out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear
Defeated and utterly helpless,
I returned the file to its slot.
Leaning my forehead against the
wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw

The title bore “People I
Have Shared the Gospel With.”
The handle was brighter than
those around it, newer, almost unused.
I pulled on its handle and a
small box not more than three inches long fell into my
I could count the cards it
contained on one hand.
And then the tears
I began to
Sobs so deep that they
They started in my stomach and
shook through me.
I fell on my knees and
I cried out of shame, from the
overwhelming shame of it all.
The rows of file shelves
swirled in my tear-filled eyes.
No one must ever, ever know of
this room.
I must lock it up and hide the
But then as I pushed away the
tears, I saw Him.

No, please not Him.

Not here.
Oh, anyone but
I watched helplessly as He
began to open the files and read the cards.
I couldn’t bear to watch His
And in the moments I could
bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my
He seemed to intuitively go to
the worst boxes.
Why did He have to read every
Finally He turned and looked at
me from across the room.
He looked at me with pity in
His eyes.
But this was a pity that didn’t
anger me.
I dropped my head, covered my
face with my hands and began to cry again.
He walked over and put His arm
around me.
He could have said so many
But He didn’t say a
He just cried with

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of

Starting at one end of the
room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over
mine on each card.
“No!” I shouted rushing to
All I could find to say was
“No, no,” as I pulled the card from Him.
His name shouldn’t be on these
But there it was, written in
red so rich, so dark, and so alive.
The name of Jesus covered
It was written with His
He gently took the card back He
smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards.
I don’t think I’ll ever
understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I
heard Him close the last file and walk back to my
He placed His hand on my
shoulder and said, “It is finished.”

I stood up, and He led me
out of the room.

There was no lock on its
There were still cards to be

”  For God so loved the

world that He gave His only
begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish but have
eternal life.”
Written by Brian Moore who died at the tender age of 17 on May 27, 1997

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