I Know This Place – I’m Home

Have you ever contemplated your death? Sat quietly and wondered what it would be like? I have. I have had thoughts of missing my life here on earth; thoughts of missing those I love. I’ve even thought about not being with my Sophie — she’s my cat! How human of me, so entrenched in this life that I often forget that beyond this life is something far better, far more beautiful; that the “missing” will not be there. After all, I’ll be in the presence of God. There will be no missing of anything, no further questions to be asked or answered. Just pure joy!

Isaiah tells us today of Hezekiah’s impending death. Hezekiah was scared and so afraid of dying and felt abandoned by God after his life of faithfulness to God.  When he was told he would die, he turned his face to the wall and wept bitterly! God heard his prayer and intervened and spared his life – this time.  We know that someday Hezekiah would die, as must we.

It is natural to be a little scared of death. We don’t know how or where it will happen. What we do know is, as faithful Christians, where we are going. We are all going to be with the God who conceived of our existence from the time of creation and longs to have us back with him.  This is the great promise of Jesus, confirmed by his Resurrection.

But here’s where the speculation comes in. What will heaven be like? Have you ever wondered, while thinking about the next evolution of your existence – earthly life to heavenly life? How often have you heard someone say “heaven will be like the best golf course, ever! And I can play all I want”.  Or “I’ll be able to see all my favorite football games, with the best seat ever!”.  I’ve heard many more. It makes for a good chuckle because we don’t know and have not the capacity to even imagine the glory of heaven.

We have had glimpses of heaven, however, whether we recognize them or not: the birth of a child; laughter of children at play; looking into the yes of someone you love; the gentle touch of a hospice nurse; the wrinkled face of an old one, aged with faith and grace; the unconditional love of the pet who calms and comforts us; the gatherings of family and friendships shared; the tears of sorrow and the laughter of joy; random acts of kindness by strangers;  the splendor of creation that surrounds us; the beauty of the Liturgy and the presence of Christ in the Eucharist.

Yes, we’ve glimpsed heaven many times, in God’s way of preparing us to go home. A little simplistic? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Listen to the words of the late Cardinal Joseph Bernardin of Chicago, from his book The Gift of Peace:

“Many people have asked me to tell them about heaven and the afterlife. I sometimes smile at the request because I do not know any more than they do. Yet, when one young man asked if I looked forward to being united with God and all those who have gone before me, I made a connection to something I said earlier in this book. The first time I traveled with my mother and sister to my parents’ homeland of Tonadico di Primiero, in northern Italy, I felt as if I had been here before. After years of looking through my mother’s photo albums, I knew the mountains, the land, the houses, the people. As soon as we entered the valley I said, “My God, I know this place. I am home”. Somehow I think crossing from this life into eternal life will be similar. I will be home.”

God Bless.


Jeanne Penoyar, an Accounts Manager here at Diocesan, is currently a Lector at St. Anthony of Padua parish in Grand Rapids, MI. While at St. Thomas the Apostle, Grand Rapids, Jeanne was a Lector, Cantor, Coordinator of Special Liturgies, Coordinator of lectors and, at one time, chair of the Liturgy Commission. In a past life, secretary/bookkeeper at the Basilica of St. Adalbert where she ran the RCIA program for the Steepletown parishes. And she loves to write! When relaxing, she likes reading and word puzzles.