In my Father's House...

I went to a funeral today. I love funerals. Ok, maybe that's an overstatement. Perhaps it's truer to say that I love funerals of those who have lived well, and are loved much.
Them's good Gatherings.
My friend, Bill, gave me a great big hug there and said, "This is a little bit like Heaven." And I think I agree with him. The room was full of familiar faces; men and women who have been in my world for as long as I can remember. Won't heaven be like that? Familiar people, family, Heros of the faith....and lots of calorie-free food.
This gentleman who died was not someone I knew well, but I've known of him since time began. He and his wife were in my parent's circle, and I went to school with his daughters.
These are people who know Jesus, so they know what life is about, and they know what it is to die. There's something to be said for that.
Solomon, the ancient sage, said something about wisdom in the house of mourning. I've been in the house of mourning. Heck, I've been in the inner sanctum of the House of Mourning. I do not envy the trail of grief that those close to this man will traverse over the next weeks and months. But they do not grieve as those who have no hope.
We have Time Eternal to live, and to become, and to expand. All that we are, is but a springboard into what we shall be.
And death is not the end.
The air we breathe on this temporal plane is restrictive. The highest joy our world knows is but a hint of Heaven. We are eternal creatures, you and I.