My husband Jesse and I decided to tackle reorganizing our closet, which we have been calling our “room of requirement” for the last couple of years. In the closet was a bin of mementos from my childhood. Nestled at the bottom of a Rubbermaid bin was my baby book, illustrated with a cartoon bear family dressed in Victorian clothes (gotta love early ‘90s aesthetics).

This baby book was like a time machine, ready to transport me back to the first few months of my life. I wish I could ask my mom about this time rather than gleaning all I can from these pages, but my mom passed away from cancer six years ago. I can’t call her up and ask “Hey, mom, what do you remember?” so these handwritten notes are like paper airplanes flying from heaven. 

On the last page of my baby book, I found a short letter my mom had written to baby me in the year 1992:

“Dear Katrina, mom hopes that you learn early how much God loves you and that you would commit your life to Jesus.”

My mom was not an especially sentimental person. She would have much rather shown love through making you a meal, teasing you, or bragging about you behind your back (sometimes accomplishing all three at the same time). Now that I’m expecting my first kid, I feel connected to her in a new way since losing her. I’d trade these scraps of memories for her physical presence in a heartbeat, but I can’t ignore the weight these messages have, as if they are a piece of my mom caught in the in between of heaven and earth. 

I think heaven and earth are a whole lot closer than any of us think. In fact, I think heaven may be as close as the threads of memory we have of loved ones on “the other side.”

 Heaven is found in the prayers and plans of our loving Father who gently guides us along the path of courage and not fear. 

Heaven is our many hopes and dreams being planted before we’ve even accomplished anything. 

Heaven transforms a guest room into a nursery, not overnight like a home makeover show, but piece by piece like a puzzle coming together at just the right moment. 

Heaven is a letter wishing you knew how much God loves you. Not all of us had parents who prayed these prayers over us before they knew who we were—but God was singing over you and has been writing in your book this whole time. 

“For you have been my hope, O Sovereign LORD, my confidence since youth. From birth I have relied upon you; you brought me forth from my mother’s womb. I will ever praise you.” Psalm 71:5-6

I hope you experience and know how much God loves you, and that you would commit your wild and precious life to Jesus.