“For behold, I create new heavens
and a new earth,
and the former things shall not be remembered
or come into mind.
But be glad and enjoy
that which I create forever;”
- Isaiah the Prophet
Part I - Part II - Conclusion
No, that's not a metaphor; this is the real deal. The fully restored New Heavens and New Earth that Jesus/God promised his people.
And this ain't your grandfather's heaven either. If only grandpa had paid attention to what his bible actually says—instead of relying on poorly thought through church traditions—he might have had a clue...
Not only am I literally, corporeally, and permanently in heaven in the most tangible, physical way possible, I'm also metaphorically in heaven. For the last half hour or so, I've been walking on air.
Want to know why?
An incredibly beautiful woman just told me she cares enough about me to have hunted me down. Not only that, she wants to spend lots of quality time with me. Wow!
Carla and I are sitting arm in arm near a chuckling waterfall, bare feet kicking the water, enjoying the cool mist. We are deep in conversation.
"Probably because I've been doing nothing but lazying around lately, I find myself jonesing for something exciting and useful to work on."
"I have a few ideas in the 'What next?' department myself" Carla replies. "But first tell me what you have in mind."
I hesitate for a beat, but then open up to Carla.
"You know I've always loved science fiction."
"Of course; that's a major reason I looked you up."
"I wanted to travel into space my whole life, and I still can't shake that feeling."
Carla's grip on my arm tightens, then relaxes. She gazes into my eyes. "I share your longing."
"Great! But—please tell me—what's your level of interest in exploration?"
"That depends. I'm a curious blend of pragmatist and dreamer."
The dreamer part suits me just fine, but I need to know just how pragmatic this gal is... I keep listening.
"If you mean exploring here on Earth, I have bigger fish to fry... My main interest in planet earth is locating what I need to fulfill some giant economy-sized dreams elsewhere."
The distant look in Carla's eyes prompts my next question... "And—those big dreams—what exactly are they?"
"My number-one heart's desire is to pioneer and settle a new world."
Carla's dream is music to my ears, and now I am really starting to get excited. For years, my buddy Juice and I have talked about doing that very thing.
"Sweetie? Will you be the heroine in my real-life sci-fi story?"
Carla's face lights up, setting my world ablaze. She grabs me in a bear hug.
"I thought you'd never ask! I've always imagined myself right in the middle of the stories I read. Now I get to live one." Seizing my face with both hands, she gives me a kiss the likes of which I can't recall. I swoon, but recover enough wind to speak.
"I still want to explore every nook and cranny of this unimaginably vast universe, but I can't think of a better way to start than breaking in a new planet with you."
Carla's crystalline laugh once again echos in the glade.
"Uncharted planet, here we come; Captain Kirk, eat your heart out."
"Yes?"
"There are no spaceships... yet. Nor any cars. Not even a bicycle, much less a motor scooter."
"True."
"No houses, no factories, nothing but a huge global garden."
"Right."
"We're literally starting over. We have zero technology base..."
"That is a daunting realization." We're both silent for a couple of minutes, lost in our own thoughts. And while we're thinking, let me ask you:
Did you happen to notice that I didn't have a cup of coffee with my deliciously fruity breakfast this morning? No corner coffeehouse...
Try to picture the centuries it took to produce a functioning coffee shop.
Even if a Peet's—with all its content—had been supernaturally preserved, what about the enormous supply chain necessary to keep everything a barista needs in stock?
Where would the beans come from? Who would roast them? Who would design and build the roasters?
If you deconstruct everything that goes into the most mundane activities we take for granted, you'll get a headache—as if headaches were still possible.
"The really good news is that the Library of Heaven gives us an unparalleled head start. That, and a few other cool advantages we have in these new bodies..."
"But I'd better get you up to speed on the Library first, don't you think?"
Carla stretches her right hand forward, gestures with her fingers as if to make a circle, and we're suddenly looking through a portal opening on a large space filled with bound volumes of all sizes.
"The default Library user interface we each start with is tailored to whatever was most common during our lifetime. Some get scrolls, some bound volumes, some get a database screen. You can customize it to your hearts content."
With a few more easy hand gestures, she scrolls the content of the window down and to one side, revealing stack after stack."
Taking my right hand, Carla forms my fingers in a pattern that reminds me of a Boy Scout salute. "OK, now make a quick circle." I do, and a round window a couple of feet across emerges, suspended in space in front of me. Now we each have a portal, their edges blurring into our present surroundings.
I'm impressed. I really should have paid more attention at the wedding feast... Playing with the Library interface keeps me concentrating for a minute.
"Access to information is sure going to give us a leg up when it comes to building a spaceship."
"We won't be the only ones working on this, you know."
"Really? Cool... How long do you think it will take to go from Eden 2.0 to warp technology?"
Carla fiddles with her Library window for a moment, points at it, and replies.
"This is a compendium of teams all around the planet. Hundreds of individuals, thousands of couples like us, and special interest groups of all sizes are already working to re-establish a solid global technology base."
I'm flabbergasted; did Carla just refer to us as a couple? Benjamin, get your head out of the clouds and pay attention!
"Each of us gets to work on the projects we find most intriguing, meaning motivation is through the roof. Every team has unfettered access to the entire knowledge base of humanity."
"And—though we have to mine and refine it—we also have access to all of earth's material resources, and via the Library, a good idea of how to locate them. As teams work, everything we learn is aggregated, collated, indexed, and filed in the Library for immediate access."
"Where will the money come from?"
"Money?" And there's that beautiful Carla laugh again. "We're fellow heirs of the universe, silly. We own everything."
I begin to get the picture; the skids are greased for some very rapid progress.
"Well, what do you think? A decade? A century?"
"I can't say for sure, but I suspect things will go pretty fast. There's bound to be friendly competition, but once a project becomes a clear winner, I'm sure competing teams will cheerfully reallocate resources; after all, we have a common goal."
"Sounds utopian."
"That it is; don't forget where we are."
"I know this may sound like a detour, but we'll be much more comfortable and productive if we build a house and a workshop."
"That ought be an interesting challenge with no tools."
As Carla scrolls along the shelf at hand, titles like "Homebuilding with Native Materials" and "Earth Sheltered Construction" come into view. She tags them both.
"Do you have any construction experience, Ben?"
"I do. When I was a teen, I worked with my Dad. He was a general contractor. But building with primitive technology is bound to be different than I'm used to. Maybe we can go with stone or adobe or some combination of the two?"
"This ought to be great experience for pioneering an exoplanet; we're not going to find an industrial base there either."
I am stoked. After a little more discussion about our personal preferences, where to build, and overall strategy, we leave the glade behind and—hand in hand—begin walking toward the coast.
Though this story is now complete, it is a mere introduction to the first of many stories including Carla and Ben. Countless lives have just begun on New Earth.
Our hero and heroine will cross paths with many others, and their stories will intertwine in what C.S. Lewis pictured as a beautiful dance. I hope you won't miss out; at the time of this writing, it's still not too late for you to be a participant.
Did you enjoy this story?
You can find more stories like it in the Fiction Section of our Library.
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