I was aware of my guardian angels on my left, and I instantly knew them and loved them and realized they’d always been by my side. But I was also aware of a Being on my right, and instantly I knew who this was, too. And what overcame me was a profound, endless desire to praise and worship this Being, for I knew immediately I was in the presence of God.
I have always referred to God as a ‘him’, and I guess I always will. But the being on my right was not a ‘him’ or a ‘her’; it was just God. Nor did I make any distinction between God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit, as we sometimes do on earth. They were all One – the One before me now. There was no distinct form, certainly no face or body, just a blinding profusion of brightness. I wasn’t so much meeting God as I was recognizing Him. I already knew Him, and He knew me. I’d spent my life doubting His existence and disbelieving His love for me, but in that instant I knew God had always, always been there – right there with me.
And while I say God was on my right and I had the sensation of turning to my right toward Him, what I really experienced was the understanding that everything around me was of God. The light, the brightness, the angels, the communication – everything was a creation of God. I understood that I was a part of Him, and that’s the moment I truly realized what being a creation of God truly means.
There was another sensation – a sensation that I wasn’t just aware of God, I was feeling Him. His radiance wasn’t simply something I could observe; it was something that overwhelmed every sense I had. In heaven we don’t have just five senses; we have a ton of senses. Imagine a sense that allowed us to not only see light, but also to taste it. Imagine another sense that allowed us to touch and feel light. Imagine yet another sense that isn’t taste or touch but some new way to experience something, creating a more amazing and rewarding connection than any of our earthly senses allow.
That is what I experienced in the presence of God – a beautiful new way of receiving and sending love. I was completely infused by God’s brightness and His love, and I wanted to enter into His brightness and intertwine myself completely with it. I felt a miraculous closeness to God but wanted to feel even closer.
This was the Creator of the universe, and I was in His presence! The sheer ecstasy of it! The beauty of it, the joy and the grace, the way my spirit soared and my heart burst – how I wish I had the words to convey just how miraculous this was. It was the blessing of all blessings, and I knew that I was changed forever.
In the very same instant that I saw and knew and recognized God, I immediately confessed that He was my Lord and worshipped Him with all my might. The Bible has a passage that says, ‘every tongue will confess and every knee shall bow’, and let me tell you, that’s what this was like. A complete surrender to His greatness and an overpowering desire to praise and worship Him. On earth, there were times during worship in church when my feet hurt or my kids were fussing, and I’d think, Are we almost done? But this was very different. With every fiber of my existence I wanted to praise and worship God, and that’s all I wanted to do. And I wanted to do it forever. I felt like I could do it forever. And so that’s what I did, happily, joyously – I praised God.
What drove my praise was the intensity and immensity of my love for God. There is simply no other love remotely like it. When I was in His presence, I just had the feeling that I loved Him so, so much – more than I ever thought was possible. ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength’, Jesus said when asked which commandment was the most important, and that is how I felt – like I loved God with absolutely everything – everything – I had.
And you know, back on earth, I had so many questions for God. ‘If I ever meet Him,’ I’d say, ‘I’m going to ask Him how He could let someone molest me when I was a child. How could He abide brutality against children or the suffering of starving people or cruelty toward the weak? How could He allow such evil to exist in the world?’
Why, I would ask Him, was he such a punishing God?
But in heaven, all those questions evaporated. In His presence I absolutely understood that in every way God’s plan is perfect. Sheer, utter perfection. Does that mean I can now explain how a child being murdered fits into God’s plan? No. I understood it in heaven, but we aren’t meant to have that kind of understanding here on earth. All I can tell you is that I know God’s plan is perfect. In His radiance, it all makes perfect, perfect sense.
In this way all the questions I had for God were answered without me even having to ask them. And yet, standing in His glorious presence, filled with His infinite wisdom, there was still one question I felt compelled to ask. No sooner did I find myself in heaven that I was thunderstruck by the most glaringly obvious failure of my life on earth, and that is what compelled me to ask this question of God.
But in fact it wasn’t really a question for God at all.
It was a question for myself.