I was just a little boy, but I noticed something confusing at church. We sang hymns about being eager to meet Jesus in heaven and I heard pastors talking about how much we yearned for the day we went to heaven. But at the same time, nobody seemed eager to die.
It was the first theological mystery of my life. Or maybe it was just sociology. Either way, I was too young to understand those words.
We prayed for sick people to get well. We prayed for long lives for ourselves. We mourned those who died. And in my little brain, that confused me.
If going to heaven was so great, why weren’t all these people eager to die?

We’re neither friends nor enemies, just strangers who share the past
‘This path leads to somewhere I think I can finally say, I’m home’
When love finally dies, it’s like a fever breaks and the pain is gone
Without real human connection, we’re just living in a simulation
We all see bits and pieces of reality; not a one of us sees whole picture
They won’t listen to arguments; they might listen to honest art
Hearing what your gut whispers might save you from wrong path
If you’re out of place somewhere, nobody’s going to be very happy
I often need to remind myself what I still believe to be true