“For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” 1 Corinthians 13:12
I live in two worlds now: this material one and the other one that some might call the “spiritual,” but I call the Kingdom of God. I believe the Kingdom is more real than this world, but because I am still in my material body it does not usually seem that way. In our culture the word spiritual has all kinds of airy-fairy connotations and is often associated with charlatans, often with good reason. Many people, in fact, treat the whole concept of spirituality as first cousin of imagination, mostly because they are afraid of being deceived, also with good reason.
I guess it is natural to distrust what we cannot see or touch. We are physical beings who interact with our immediate world through our five senses. From our birth we are conditioned to experience the world that way. You might even say the purpose of being born is to live a bodily life in this particular kind of world – to experience all its sensual delights, to find out how to live a good life despite all of its sensual temptations, to find the right path under the kinds of circumstances this world presents.
Although I am sure many charlatans practice deception, trying to make a buck off the idea of spirituality, it does not logically follow that this world is the only reality. If someone lies to me about being a doctor it doesn’t mean that doctors do not exist. Anyway, I can no longer think of the Kingdom of God world as less real than this world or consider it theoretical in any sense. My son is there and my son is real. He has not vaporized into clouds of memory and imagination. He – his essential conscious being – lives in another dimension of reality, the place where most of us will eventually go and where many have already gone. It is at least scientifically demonstrable that there is nothing permanent about this world with all of its rapidly decaying matter.
I have sensed Jesse’s presence often and feel a sureness that he is alive. I know some people will smile and say “Isn’t that nice that she believes that?” That’s fine. If something is true, it is true even if 100 percent of the human population does not believe it. Truth is not subject to the vote. Through this horrible experience, I have learned that I can receive gifts of information in meditation. I cannot force the gifts to come – cannot command God to speak or act or show me things at will and nor I would I want to. But out of God’s mercy I have received communication from Jesse himself that fills me with great joy. Don’t panic – if you see me around I promise not to go all mystic on you. These experiences are sacred to me and not to mix with workaday life. I may share some of them with friends or family who seem sincerely interested but I surely won’t go blabbing about them in the ordinary course of the day. The last thing I want to do is impose my experiences on those who don’t want to hear.
On the Kingdom level, which I can sometimes briefly visit through prayer and meditation, I understand clearly that God has an ongoing purpose for Jesse and for all of us, whether we are currently alive in this flesh or have transitioned to the next world. I feel joy and assurance. However on the level where I still reside in my day-to-day material life I miss him every moment of every day, my heart physically aches, and I can never be as I was. My heart’s capacity for worldly happiness has this huge leak and no matter how much I remind myself how much I still have to live for, I cannot seem to keep it from constantly deflating. The fact that my baby’s precious body is dead and buried has killed me, or at least something in me. What happens to souls after death is that they go to a place of beauty, light, and love, but still, the death of the body is pure horror.