I grew up going to Sunday School and reading the Bible and hearing stories about how great heaven was — no tears, no sickness, no night. It sure did sound good to me, but it didn’t sound real. In fact, a lot of nights I’d lay in bed and worry about dying. I wondered if there really was a place called heaven or if it was just a made-up story — a fairytale told to make kids be good at night and fall asleep quicker. “Dream of how happy heaven will be. Just close your eyes and think about heaven. You’ll fall asleep before you know it.”
When my thirteen-year-old sister died tragically, my world fell apart. Literally. Our family fell apart. Literally. And, suddenly God didn’t make sense any more. How could a God who is good and who is so full of love allow a little girl to choke to death because her lungs wouldn’t allow enough air to go in? We prayed, but God didn’t answer.