When I Think

When I think about heaven, I think about walking in a white dress over a yellow hill beneath a gray sky. There's a big, leafy tree to my left. Maybe a willow or an oak or an elm. I think of space that goes on forever and quiet that can never be disrupted. I am by myself. And I am at peace. I hope that heaven is big enough for me to be alone in a sea of a trillion other spirits. I think I will need to be alone. To think.

When I think about raising children, I think about taking them to the creek, zipped in fleece jackets and laced in colorful tennis shoes, and letting them explore the muddy banks. I think about telling them to "be still and listen." I think about them holding up cupped hands and saying to me, "Mom, look at this frog I found!" I think about exploring not cleaning, explaining not yelling, laughing not crying. I think about waking up with excitement to show them the world, not dread over making breakfast.

When I think about my career, I think about listening. I think about sharing tears of joy and sorrow, of taking to heart what may have otherwise been forgotten. I think about writing and inspiring and loving. I think about utilizing my education; I think about being well-used. I think about coming home to my husband and children and telling them what I learned at work today. Better yet, I think about taking my children along to work with me.

When I think about marriage, I think about laughter. I think about running through the rain and taking long drives to nowhere and eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I think about talking and I think about sitting in silence. I think about a strong, mutual respect and understanding. I think about equality. I think about underlining a passage in a book, rolling over in bed, and saying, "Listen to this."

When I think about God I think about sorrow. I think, "I'm sorry God, that it's your job to watch all these horrible things and love all these horrible people." I think, "I do not understand. I hope you know what you're doing." But I also think about light and about love and about faith. I think of a pure, unadulterated understanding of my soul. I think of the past and the present and the future and then I think, "Everything is going to be okay.

In fact, everything is going to be wonderful."