“Mommy, when we got to heaven, do we take our bodies with us? Is heaven full of a bunch of skeletons dancing around?”
That’s a creepy image right there. A little too much haunted house for me.
Before I can answer Tucker, Tyler dives in with his answer in an authoritative voice, as if he knows all things about celestial bodies.
“Tucker, do you think God is just a dancing skeleton? No, you don’t. So if he isn’t, then we won’t be.”
Well, in part true. But I’m not sure we should base our theology on all things God is that we think we will eventually be.
Tyler is still looking at his brother with his eyebrows raised, the look that says, I totally got you on that one.
“Guys, here’s what I know. The Bible says we get new bodies when we get to heaven, and we don’t need the ones we used on earth. So we leave these bodies behind and we get new ones that will let us do things we could never do here.”
“So, Daddy has a new body?”
I often like to imagine it. I wonder if he looks like his younger, most confident, self. Or if his physique is totally different from the one I knew so well.
I see the boys exchanging glances, processing this new knowledge, deciding what it will mean to them.
“Guys, here’s the important thing: the Bible says we will know each other. No matter what we look like, we will recognize the people we love, and they will know us.”
They each smile in their own way. The ways that separately say, that’s all I needed to know.