My cousin, Jean, passed a couple of weeks ago. She was 88. To say she had a dry sense of humor would be an understatement. To say she had deep theological thoughts wouldn't do her justice. Here's an essay she wrote back in 1988.
An Essay of Heaven
I don’t know that I want to go to heaven. I guess I’d have to listen to all those old songs I don’t like - might even have to sing’ em. Sometimes they say we’ll recognize our loved ones. If we do, do you reckon my Mama will want me to sit by her side and be a good girl again? On the other hand, they say we’ll have a different form and no earthly relationship will remain. If that’s the case, it’ll be like being lonely in a crowd and I don’t like that.
Too, some people who are sure they are going to heaven are not among my favorites down here. If we don’t know each other, that’s no problem. But if we do, I’d sure hate to have to put up with them through eternity. Down in hell, I am told, will be a lot of my fun friends. I’d about rather laugh and stew with them than than try to please these “good” folks.
I’d love to see Jesus and have him put his hand on my head or whatever facsimile I have - and to see him smile and hear his voice. I wouldn’t even mind if he fussed at me a little. Because, you see, I’m not very good. But I love Jesus and he loves me. He loves us all.
Wonder if he’d be willing to meet me somewhere else because I’m still not sure I want to go to heaven.
Jean Howard German
September 14, 1988