Tissue of Truths

“Someday I won’t have to carry tissues.” Aunt Millie rifled through her sizable purse for one. No luck. She humphed in disgust.

Her niece Ashley raised her eyebrows. The old lady still seemed sharp, but occasionally she said something odd. Ashley handed Aunt Millie a tissue.

Aunt Millie blew her nose loudly and gave the young woman an indignant stare. “I’m just as clearheaded as you are, missy! Maybe a little more.” She pulled from her purse the New Testament she always carried and triumphantly pointed to a verse. “There it is. God’s promise. God says one day He’ll wipe away all my tears. No more pain and hospitals. No more funerals for my family and friends. I won’t even catch a cold. No more tissues for me!”

Most of us don’t think of the afterlife in terms of tissues, but we would do well to adopt Aunt Millie’s viewpoint. We often forget heaven is a fact—not a fantasy well-meaning people invented to make suffering and death bearable. In Revelation 21, God shows us a New Jerusalem so tangible that an angel measures it.

And, without a doubt, a box of tissues won’t be found anywhere.