Story: Prepare to land

The plane had crashed and Frank was dead. One minute he'd been stretched back in his seat. Next minute his whole world burst into flames. And now, opening his eyes, he found himself in heaven – drinking in warm light, soft green grass, gentle music, the scent of roses and the curious sight of a team of angels at work around a magnificent house.

This house, with its sloping roof and elegant pillars, seemed newly built. Frank saw a couple of angels up ladders painting the window frames gold. A couple more were carrying a brocade settee up steps to the front door while another transferred bright, tropical fish from a crystal bucket into a stream. Beside him, between jewel-studded gates, stood an angel with a clipboard, directing operations.

Although busy, this bustling angel looked approachable. 'Hi there,' Frank called. 'I've just arrived. I was wondering what to do next. I mean, is there somewhere I need to go and register?' A big smile broke out across the angel's face. 'Oh no. No need to register. Your Father in heaven already knows everything about you.' The angel waved the clipboard. 'I've got all the information here and a whole list of instructions about what to do to your house and who to invite to your welcome party.'

'You mean this beautiful house is mine!'
'Well, everything in heaven and earth belongs to the Father, but, yes, this is your mansion in heaven.'
'Wow!' cried Frank. 'And you're planning my welcome party.'
'Naturally.' The angel consulted its clipboard. 'You're a dearly loved child of God. You've given your life to following Jesus on earth and now the Father wants to honour you publicly.'

Frank frowned slightly, feeling uneasy. He'd gone to church at Christmas and Easter and had a great aunt who kept sending him Christian books. But he suspected there was a bit more to following Jesus than that. 'Angel, would you mind double-checking the name on your clipboard,' he said.

'Harshaw,' said the Angel. 'F. Harshaw.'
'Yes,' said Frank. 'That's me. And you are?'
'Gabriel Junior at your service, well, in God's service really… but you know what I mean…'

Frank reckoned he knew as much about serving God as he did about following Jesus, but this didn't seem the time to say so – not with Gabriel pointing over his shoulder and shouting, 'Look. Here comes your number one fan.' Frank turned round and saw a cherub flying towards him, waving excitedly and leading a handsome golden stallion by the reins. 'So it's true then!' the cherub pulled to a halt, beaming. 'We heard a rumour that a very dear child of God had come home to the Harshaw mansion. My friend, there are so many people who want to thank you for telling them about Jesus. Jump onto Sunrise here.' The stallion tossed its creamy mane. 'I'll take you to meet them.'

'Ummm… .' Frank felt more uneasy than ever. 'I'd love to come with you. There's just one problem. Well, two problems actually: a) I don't remember ever telling anyone about Jesus and b) I can't ride.'

'Of course you can ride.' Gabriel waved the clipboard under his nose. 'It says here that you rode from village to village when you were a missionary in Peru.' A missionary in Peru!! Suddenly Frank understood. Just to be sure, though, he grabbed the clipboard.

Entry from the Lamb's 'Book of Life' – the embossed words stood out at the top of the parchment. And yes, there were the facts in black and white –
F. Frances Harshaw - follower of Jesus – retired missionary - prayer warrior…
 
'Listen up, guys,' the edge to Frank's voice wiped the beam from the cherub's face and sent Gabriel into a flutter. 'There's something you really need to know. Your retired missionary is Frances Harshaw, my great aunt. Great aunt Frances is an eighty-year-old woman who serves Christ. I am Francis Harshaw – a twenty-eight-year-old man who… well… who doesn't. Get it?'

'Oh dear! Oh dear! What a mix-up! We're so sorry,' Gabriel fluttered apologetically. 'I mean in heaven we don't pay much attention to whether people are men or women. All that matters is that they belong to Jesus. Somehow you have ended up at the gates of the heavenly mansion we've been preparing for your relative who, it now appears, hasn't even died.'

'Right,' said Frank. 'I'm dead and she's in a nursing home in Sussex. So now we know that the real future owner of this property,' he pointed towards the marble steps,' hasn't got here yet, could you please direct me to my own home.'

'Oh dear! Oh dear! If only I could!' The angel shook its head.
'What? You mean…' Frank felt a stab of fear. 'You mean… I don't have a home here?' Gabriel nodded sadly. 'Please give me another chance,' cried Frank. 'I never took heaven seriously before now. I didn't understand. Deep down I always knew I needed to find out more about Jesus. I just kept putting it off. But now, please, if I could just have my life over again…'

There was a long pause. 'You can't have your life over again, Frank,' the angel said gently. 'But the good news is you aren't dead – or at least not physically. Your aunt has prayed for you for many years. And this dream is part of God's answer.' And with that the house, the garden, the scents and the bright light faded from view. Frank woke to hear a voice crackle over the intercom. 'We are about to begin our descent into Heathrow. Fasten your seat belts and prepare to land.'

Automatically the young man slotted the metal tongue of his seat belt into place. Really, though, he wanted to leap out of his seat and dance down the aisle. His life wasn't over. The plane hadn't crashed. He'd been asleep but now he was awake and free to make the most of his time on earth. 'I'll head for Sussex,' he thought. 'I'll go and visit Auntie Frances.'

For who better to help him follow Jesus than the elderly lady whose heavenly mansion he'd just seen?