Like so many, I believe in ‘something’ and like to have spiritual works to hand, like Thomas A Kempis and Sister Wendy.
I’m always bemused by relatives or friends saying “Mum will now be sitting with her sisters up there having a fine old time” or likewise. It sounds so trite, yet we hear these type of expressions over and over again. And yet the dead are to us together in their own company. Anyhow it’s all a great mystery to me.
When my late DH comes to me in dreams, it’s so real, it’s as if he never went away, so there may be a spirit world divided by a veil, I just keep an open mind.
I remember thinking, when my two DC were tiny and asleep going into their room and watching them, that they had been here before. It was a very strong feeling. Their being here they took for granted and it seemed to have nothing to do with me.
Their presence was a mystery to me. (A miraculous mystery)
And mystery is the only word to explain my beliefs.
I’m also not longing to go to heaven. This world is heaven enough for me, so I don’t see it as a better place and if there is a God, the great architect, why would I despise his creation?