Jonathan’s little four-year-old voice cried out unexpectedly, “But I don’t want to go to heaven. I don’t want to leave this beautiful world that God made!” The words caught me completely off guard.

With what I thought was simple and joyful description, I had been explaining to him about heaven. “Can you imagine, Jonathan? One day soon, Jesus will come and we’ll all go live together with His Father and the angels.”

Jonathan was beginning to panic at the thought of leaving all that was safe and familiar to him, all that he had grown to love and enjoy. His little bed at nap times felt so cozy and secure. Looking up, he would see Winnie the Pooh, Piglet, and his favorite Beatrix Potter stuffed animals smiling down from his shelf. Our back lawn was guarded by Irlo, a gorgeous German Shepherd, who would run at full speed, pulling Jonathan on a boogie board “sleigh” across the lush grass. And of course, there were long summer vacation days we’d spend building sandcastles under the umbrella, while his brother surfed in the waves.

Heaven? Who wants to go where nothing is familiar or the same?

Now I am wiser, more cautious about having such conversations with very young children. Streets of gold and mansions in glory might not necessarily sound appealing to little ones. As for myself, I’d actually prefer the imagery of a small cottage, a crackling fire, and shelves and shelves of books. What do pearly gates, a glassy sea, and a city without a sun to rise in the morning or set at night have to offer? Do you ever find yourself thinking, I know I’m supposed to like this, but I’m not sure that I really do!

Of course, I’m not referring to the promises that Jesus will be there, or that we will be reunited with our loved ones, but rather the way heaven is so often perceived.

As the years have flown by, heaven has become so much nearer. Not just because I am older, and I have more years behind than in front of me, but because it is three years, this July, that my precious oldest son, Christopher, is there. Three years since I have heard his voice, or felt his arm about my shoulders, or kissed his cheek. I don’t think in nebulous, ethereal terms about heaven any longer. As Jesus offered his hands and side to Thomas for Him to touch, I know I will one day touch my son too. Scripture promises God will renew and restore our physical bodies, and the physical universe as well.

Romans 8 tells us that creation is waiting in breathless anticipation for the day when it will be set free from death and decay. The final pages of the Bible don’t speak of us going up to heaven but of heaven coming down to earth. A new heaven and a new earth.

I believe in the physical resurrection of Jesus; it is my proof that not only my sins are forgiven, but that death has been once and for all crushed. Up from the grave Christ came victorious, not some ghostly specter, but in all his beautiful divine and human perfection. “Look at my hands and my feet. It is I myself! Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones, and you see I have” (Luke 24:38–40).

Our bodies will one day be made like His resurrection body. We will recognize and be recognized, we will feast, and we will know and be known. And above all we will be loved and loving without limitations! Hallelujah!

And of this we are certain: as lovely and beautiful as this fallen world can seem at times, we can only imagine what a restored earth will be like!

As Randy Alcorn says,

“Every beautiful place on earth—the Grand Canyon, the Alps, the Amazon rain forests, the Serengeti Plain in Tanzania (where lions roam)—is just a small taste of what New Earth will be like. It’s like when your mom or dad lets you have a tiny piece of turkey or dressing to sample just before the Thanksgiving meal. It’s not enough to satisfy you. But it’s good enough to help you think about how delicious the whole meal will be!

“All our lives, even if we don’t know it, we’ve been dreaming of the New Earth—the Heaven that will last forever. Whenever we see beauty in water, wind, flower, animal, man, woman, or child, we see just a sample of what Heaven will be like.” *

Thy kingdom come; this is my Easter hope.

*Excerpted from Randy Alcorn’s book, Heaven for Kids (Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers), 2006, p. 51–57