52 - Welcome to your new home
The noise inside the transporter reminded Wiley of the inside of a plane. No engine noise, just air flowing past. How was the oxygen being pumped into the transporter? Probably a simple engineering feat for the creator of the universe.
“I can sense what’s been left behind,” Wiley said. “I was part of the unbelieving world. Even for those who did believe, the last place they wanted to end up was heaven. It’s been well-marketed as a boring place … although everyone believed in heaven when someone died. Interesting, that.”
“You were well and truly in the battle. It was black and white to you. That’s generally not the case. Most people hover in the middle and make no commitment either way.” He smiled. “The amber people, maybe?”
Yes, Wiley could sense what was left behind. The images that dropped into to his mind’s eye confirmed this. It was almost like he lived through them. Like he was there.
“Dreams can be real. Visions can be real. It’s called prophecy.” Again, his visitor was in tune with his thoughts.
In those visions, Wiley had seen where the change took place. It was a sense of hopelessness. Maybe it was in a dream, but he’d reached the point where he knew man didn’t have the answers. Only God did, and he needed to respond to that. He also knew he needed to be forgiven for all he had done. God gave him an answer to that as well. His Son.
“And here you are shooting towards your new home.”
Wiley smiled. A new home. It was always meant to be, it just took him a while to realise. There were enemies out there, blocking the way. He had been one of them. Now he groaned in anticipation of his new home. Up ahead, he saw what he assumed was the end of the tunnel and the outline of a gate. A large rounded gate. He heard sounds, sweet sounds, like he’d never heard before. And he didn’t feel a drop of anxiety.
A life form resided inside Wiley. He sensed its presence flooding his own being. Peace. He’d been rescued. God spoke to his heart.
Welcome home.
In an instant, he was beside his parents. How beautiful they both looked. Beside them stood another couple who looked similar. His grandparents? It was the eyes. The eyes gave away their wisdom and age. He saw Sheila in the distance, surrounded by her family. Placard man was also in viewing distance and their eyes met. He hoped his eyes conveyed the gratitude he felt in his heart.
Another lady stood nearby, her arm resting on a boy. Camellia. His joy moved to another level. He would say hello to them soon. It looked like her father wasn’t here. Wiley had met him a few times, an unpleasant experience, but there were no feelings of judgement or sadness. They were unwanted emotions.
Multitudes stood in a massive open area. Endless layers and layers of people, like a stadium. An assembly of thousands and thousands of people. He was high up in the stadium, so to speak, and could see great mountains and greenery in the distance. That surprised him, as it was nothing like the prevailing view of heaven as fluffy clouds and angels playing harps. No wonder people didn’t like the idea of heaven. They’d had a mindset change. A mind conditioned to love things of the world and not heaven. Everything was clear now.
A river clear as crystal flowed from the direction of the stadium’s platform, separating the sides of the stadium. A floating screen displayed a closer view of the platform. He could hear everything happening on the platform, like he had a wireless headset implanted under his skin. Soft soothing background music played. Those who surrounded the front of the platform were dressed in white and held what resembled palm branches, which they swayed back and forth. A peaceful sight.
“They are the tribulation saints,” his angel said. “Many were martyred for their faith.” The angel’s voice overrode the platform’s audio. Some kind of sound priority system in place.
Wiley hadn’t set foot in church for as long as he could remember and felt honoured God had found him worthy. The sound of praises swept up to the thousands, who joined in, fanned by the palm branches. Wiley had never heard anything like it, nor felt anything like it.
Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty.
Wiley closed his eyes. A vision of God entered his mind. A vision so profound, so amazing.
You will see me face to face.
Wiley fell to his knees in unison with those around him, bowed his head and closed his eyes. It seemed like the natural thing to do. He could only imagine millions on their knees.
Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!
A bright light splashed across his eyelids. He opened his eyes and raised his head to see the brightest light shining down on the platform, penetrating the platform. The worship increased.
Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty.
Wiley sensed connection. They all were one. He understood now. The love he felt was for others, not himself. He gazed at the platform and a large seat appeared. A shadow appeared above the seat, floating down like a dove. As the shadow came into focus, he realised who it was.
The King.
* * *
Jack was back with Erica and Johnny. He looked out towards the mountains. One day he would test thought travel, but he was patient. A natural emotion in their new world.
“It’s an interesting time to be a detective,” Cath said. “We get to see the baddies who turned good.”
“But we’re all baddies turned good.”
“That’s an impressive comeback. Yes, and you’re right.” She jerked her head. “Is that Wiley over there?”
He looked in the direction she’d indicated. The chances of it being Wiley were quite high, as Sheila was there. Jack had a strong urge to talk to the man who’d taken up so much of Jack’s headspace. There was a massive mind shift with Wiley, but God could do such things and Jack understood that well.
“I believe so. Well, let’s reintroduce ourselves. I feel like I know him.”
Jack studied the surface they walked on, a combination of road bitumen and exposed aggregate which absorbed his steps as he walked. The group turned as Jack and Cath approached. Wiley and the man next to him almost looked like twins except for the eyes. The other man had a few more lines on his face, thicker hair, different build. Jack had heard no two snowflakes are identical, and it would be the same here. Everyone different. No clones.
Sheila was the first to speak. “So nice to see you both again. Isn’t this amazing?” She paused and gave them a surprised look. “You haven’t met Thomas, have you?” She tucked her arm in his. “Thomas, when you were a bad boy, these people came looking for you.”
Wiley gave them both a nod. “We have met, Sheila. They interviewed me when I gave myself up.” Wiley gave her a wink. “And they were nice to me.”
“Hello, Thomas Wiley.” Jack held out his hand. “Been a few months. You may not remember my name, but I’m Jack Kinnaird—was nearly going to say detective Kinnaird, been saying that for a long time now. Need to get use to my normal name. And this is det … that idea didn’t last long.”
Cath put out her hand. “Catherine York. If you’re anything like me, you wouldn’t remember my name either. We’re glad you found your way here”.
“I remember you both. You were good to me at that interview.” He pointed to Cath. “I sensed you were a believer at the meeting. Jack, I wasn’t sure about. Had him marked as an amber person. But hey, what does that matter?”
Sally-Anne approached them.
