John Ray Jackson’s passionate plea to God was going unanswered.
“Please, Lord, let me live.”
There was no response to the desperate call.
Sitting in the all white room, Jackson’s soul was crushed by the silence. Fear began to smother him like a pillow over his face.
“It’s a bit late for pleading for your life, don’t you think?”
Jackson opened his eyes and looked around. There, standing next to him, was a nondescript man holding a clipboard. He looked up from said clipboard and quietly spoke the words that Jackson did not want to hear.
“I mean, you’re already dead. As a door knob.”
Jackson’s normally would have freaked out. Instead, he felt strangely calm.
“Am I in heaven?”
“Oh no,” the man with the clipboard said,” You died so quick that it threw us off. So you’re in what you would call a waiting room.”
“Great,” Jackson thought, “even death has a waiting room. It probably has a gift shop, too.” He fiddled around in his pocket and pulled out his phone but there was no signal. He thought. “I must be in Hell.”
The man with the clipboard chuckled, “Oh no, you’re not in Hell. You’d know if you were. Think of a marshmallow over a campfire.”
Jackson replied, “Then I’m in Heaven?”
The man with the clipboard replied, “Like I said, you’re in a holding room while we get your particular Heaven ready for you. And you can call me ‘Steve.’ I’ll be your concierge.”
Jackson said, “How did I die?”
“Does it matter?”
“I guess not. So, is heaven a bunch of clouds and people playing harps?”
Steve looked at his clipboard, “Thankfully no. Clouds are wet and cold. And an eternity of harp music would drive us all nuts. No, Heaven is your happiest moment on earth for eternity.”
Jackson scoffed, “I didn’t have many happy moments.”
Steve smiled politely, “So you thought. You wasted so much life, you know. We’ll have your eternity ready in a moment.”
“Let me guess. You’re going to show how my life made a difference in the world. Then all I have to do is say, ‘I want to live,” and I’ll end up in Bedford Falls.”
Steve shook his head, “You watch too many movies. You’re dead as a rock. Your funeral has already happened. You were cremated. Stick a fork in you, you’re done. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Your ashes were dumped in the Gulf.”
Jackson slumped in the hard plastic chair, “You didn’t write greeting cards in a former life…”
Steve smiled and said, “Follow me.”
Jackson followed his concierge toward a door that read “Exit.”
“What if I couldn’t read English?”
Steve, not looking up from his clipboard, said, “then it would be the language you could read. We love everyone up here.”
Jackson came to the door and it opened. There in front of him was a lake surrounded by mountains.
“This isn’t my favorite memory.”
Steve replied, “No, but it was your dad’s.”
Soon Jackson heard a familiar voice. There, surrounded by his own parents, uncles and aunts, was his father.”
Jackson ran down to the lakeshore and embraced his dad.”
Steve checked off a box on the clipboard and said,” This is your dad’s favorite moment. That’s why he is here. Your favorite moment was being with him. And that’s why you’re here.”
