Three of my friends lost their fathers yesterday—all for different reasons, all in different locations, and all at different times throughout that twenty-four-hour period. But all three of those friends, in the midst of their deep sorrow over the earthly loss of one they loved so dearly, have hope, for they know that their loved one is now truly healed, beginning eternal life where there is no more pain, no more sorrow, no more tears. There is, however, an eternity in which to worship and honor the One Who gave them their life on earth and Who gave His life for them while He was on earth.

They are realizing firsthand that eternity is not long enough to pay adequate homage to the God of heaven and earth.

People often say things at a time like this that are intended to comfort those left here to grieve and to complete what God has yet for them to do. I confess that I don’t know exactly what happens once our spirits are freed from their earthly homes and permitted to enter heaven’s gates at the moment of death. I know that the Scriptures tell me that once I’m “absent from the body” I will be “present with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8). But I don’t know the details of all that heaven will be like.

For example, people often say, “Oh now that your loved one is gone, he or she will be watching over you and smiling down on you.” When I hear that, I know that the intentions are undoubtedly pure and good, and they are meant to bring comfort to the sorrowing one. Though I’m certain of my future home in heaven, maybe I’m the one whose not clear on how things work. I don’t wish to sound flippant or disrespectful of the deceased, but I’m pretty certain that once I reach heaven, all y’all won’t mean diddly to me—I’ll be sitting at Jesus’ feet, learning about him and from Him face-to-face and worshiping Him from the get-go in word, in song, and in silent, awestruck adoration.

My fear is that in our efforts to comfort others, we too often attribute earth’s knowledge to heaven’s incomprehensible glory. We speak of reuniting with loved ones as though they are there, making up the guest room for us or as if they will hold the same role in our eternal dwelling place that they held in our earthly lives. Again, maybe it’s just that I’m ignorant of all the details or that I’m not as “studied up” on this as I should be, but we aren’t living eternally to “hang out with the old gang.” We’re there to worship the Lord of Lords!

So as I write notes to my three friends today, sharing with them my love for them, my support for them as they grieve, and my longing for them to have the comfort that our heavenly Father’s everlasting arms provide, I will rejoice with them that their loved one has faith that is now sight, and that each of those loved ones is joining the angel choirs and those who have gone before in singing, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lamb that was slain!”

Revelation 5:11-13, NLT

Then I looked again, and I heard the voices of thousands and millions of angels around the throne and of the living beings and the elders. And they sang in a mighty chorus:

And then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea. They sang: