I overuse the word ‘perfect’ and so it is interesting for me to note that it is not a word that I am reaching for as I write about this. It does not feel like a suitable word. It is something more than perfect. In this context ‘perfect’ seems false, empty, and unreal.
These heavenly moments are something else, something more. My heart fills, and even overflows. Time and the rest of the world seems to stand still.
Then it is gone. I cannot keep hold of it. It’s a physical feeling of joy and wholeness, that sneaks up on me and then passes, leaving me with a precious memory.
One of these blissful memories is of all five of us lying on our big bed, all talking and being together. I don’t remember what we talked about, just that we were happy and content. Each person was happy, peaceful, content, loved and loving. No-one had any wants in that moment that were not being met.
It was a moment of bliss, a glimpse of heaven.
Then it was gone…and I was back to my everyday life, but with a new spring in my step to know that heaven is so real, and really quite near.