Does anyone know what the temperature is like in heaven?
If you were preparing for a trip there, what would you bring?
As you sort through your wardrobe of memories,
What would you pack?

Obviously heaven is cooler than hell,
But is it a cold weather climate or warm?
And how much baggage are you allowed to bring?
When taking a trip to infinity, it’s important to pack smart.

Sorting through the dusty part of your wardrobe of memories,
You pack your baby clothes along with that odd looking shirt you wore to first grade.
You grab everything you can from growing up through your teenage years…
That monstrosity you wore on your first date…
The unmentionable item you were wearing under your graduation gown.

Your wardrobe of memories is organized like a timeline…
The earliest stuff on the left
The most recent on the right.
You grab great handfuls of memories and pack them away.

When the wardrobe is empty,
You look out at the vast collection of luggage this life has created,
Wondering if you properly tagged each one with your name and address.
Lost bags on this trip are rarely returned.

The road to heaven leads down to a wide river.
You arrive with a cart overflowing with luggage,
Only to discover an old man waiting to take you across
In the smallest rowboat you’ve ever seen.

He looks at your cart full of memories and shakes his head in disbelief.
“There’s no room for all that,” he scolds.
So, you hurriedly sort through your bags and reduce your essentials,
Down to two large rolling suitcases.

But, when you try to step out onto the dock,
The old man shakes his head once again.
“There’s no room for all that,” he repeats.
So back you go, preparing another donation to Goodwill
Of memories no longer essential.

When you return, you’ve done your best
To pare down everything from your vast wardrobe
Into a single carry-on bag of the most cherished.
These are the things that you can’t do without,
Those things that define who you think you really are.

But alas, as you step back on the dock holding your bag,
The old man once again shakes his head and sighs,
“I’m sorry,” he says, “But, there’s only room for you.”

So you put your last bag down on the dock,
And step inside the tiny boat.
As the old man begins rowing you across to the other side,
You lay back and enjoy the beautiful day…
The clouds moving overhead in the sky,
The splashing water beneath the oars,
And you enjoy the warm breeze that’s gently blowing your hair.
It feels like it’s about 72 degrees.