I figure there is a chance I can get into Heaven sometime. I imagine it will be close but there may be enough in the credit column and maybe if I explain some needed skills, maybe if I am willing to take whatever jobs are available, I may be admitted. But I can see it now: I am going to complain.
The book "Stumbling on Happiness" explains that most of our minds are put together in such a way that we tend to be more alert at the moment to things that are wrong. But, we often retain pictures of our past that get edited to be mostly right. Let's go out to the ballgame. It'll be great.
But it's hot, very hot. Crowded, quite pushy and close. The hotdog vendor will not look this way. I spill mustard down my front. Yuck. Damn. But we won and you were funny. Three years later, I can't feel the heat, the crowd effect is gone, I just had a fine lunch so hot dogs are irrelevant. I remember that great catch. I remember that we won. I remember laughing at your jokes.
So, I expect to have initial discomforts and some negative reactions to the layout, the rules, the ways of doing things in paradise. Given who I am and what I am like, I am likely to be less than charmed at some of the ways of Heaven. I am not that good at grasping advanced thinking but I know my reactions. All that peace and serenity!??! All that glory and love?!?! Sweet smiles and joy. More sweet smiles and joy. How much can I take?
If I don't get kicked out, I'm sure I will adjust. Ok, a bit of scowling, maybe a little grumbling. Some timid embarrassment at being angelically beautiful. But if I can last through two or three years of white clouds and gold harps, I will fit right in.
