Even when I was a little kid, the concept of heaven bothered me. It’s supposed to be a place devoid of struggle and difficulty, but if that’s the case, where is the joy?

I think that first occurred to me out in the wilds of Africa. Standing in front of an arid hill, with rocks, climbing, and difficulty. And yet, at the top of that hill, there was “heaven.” It only existed because of what I had to do and accomplish in order to stand there.

The view was magnificent. But the magnificence was exponentially more magnificent because of the challenge it took to get there.

Accepting a “saviour,” blind obedience, or saying a prayer… Those aren’t challenges.

How can anything be phenomenal and heavenly if it isn’t preceded by challenge, struggle, and strife?

Heaven requires a contrast; without it, it can’t be heavenly.

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