Abby’s Home

But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him (1 Corinthians 2:9)

George Parsons paused as he reached the crest of the hill. The wonder of the valley before him took his breath away. He had last seen this place–Adon’s country–whose beauty made everything in our world appear as a shadow, when he, Grace, Josiah, and Abby had accompanied their grandfather to the Beautiful House where Adon, known here as Am, the Creator of all worlds, dwelt. There Gramps joined his beloved Annie already dwelling in that blessed place.

The four children had experienced adventures in this other world, the Land of Adon, and witnessed many wonderful sights but none compared to the one that lay before George now. He paused before entering that vale with the knowledge that it transposed time and space. Here, in the most wonderful of all Am’s creations, the Creator welcomed those who loved Him into His House at the end of a golden pathway leading there.

As George stood on the crest of the hill, thoughts of the accident and subsequent events that led to this moment flashed through his mind. Two years had passed since Grampa entered the Beautiful House. Being the youngest of the four Parsons siblings, George quite expected to outlive his siblings, but the passing of Abby hit him hard. Only a few years older than himself, his sister, in her early forties, had succumbed to injuries from a fall incurred a few months before. She and George had been visiting their family homestead for a celebration of the anniversary of Grampa’s passing. On that autumn day, George and Abby thought it fun to relive some of the experiences of their youth. They ran around the farm like children playing childish games and poking fun at each other. George’s wife, Anne, shook her head and sighed. “I’d be jealous,” she said, “if George were carrying on so with anyone else but Abby. Let them have their fun.”

Back on the edge of the beautiful valley, George shuddered when remembering his words, “Let’s go up to the hayloft in the barn.”

“Yes,” his sister had replied. “We had a lot of hay fights up there, didn’t we? Pa would scold us but never anything worse. I think he understood our need for something other than work.”

But loose hay and forty-something-year-olds do not mix. Abby fell to the floor below the loft incurring severe internal injuries. Over the course of the following days and weeks she recovered mobility enough to perform her everyday tasks, but her weakened body fell prey to illnesses she could not fight off. She passed away the following Spring.  Since she had no other family, her siblings laid her in the plot on the Parsons homestead next to the headstone memorializing Grampa. They comforted themselves with the memories of Am’s house, reminding one another they would someday see their sister again.

However, George could not shake off guilt for Abby’s death. “What were we thinking?” He confessed to Grace and Josiah. “Running around like kids at our age?” Something bad was bound to happen.”

Grace countered, “But when the accident took place, was Abby enjoying herself?”

George nodded but took little comfort in the thought.

Now, while standing before Adon’s valley, he remembered what brought him here on this day. Three nights prior to this, he felt a presence in his room and woke up in the middle of the night. Anne snored softly beside him. But there at the foot of their bed stood Abby in a faint glow of light. “George,” she said. “I know you miss me and feel guilty for what happened. But it was Adon’s time for me to come home. You are not to blame. Come to the His Land–to Am’s House and I will show you wonderful things.”

In the morning, George told Anne he had family business to attend and would return the following day. Anne felt a lump in her throat for him for he had never left so abruptly before. Still, she sent him away with a kiss. On the way, George stopped at Josiah’s place, urging him to come along. The older brother said, “George, you know that was just a dream. Take comfort in that. As for me, I am busy with my store and don’t have time for chasing after wishful thinking.”

When George arrived at the homestead, memories of his childhood overtook him. He saw himself, Grace, Josiah, and Abby doing chores and afterwards racing through the farm enjoying the company of one another. George hung his head. Those days could never be again. They had all outgrown childish games and now one of them was missing.

Grace met him at her front door. George expected she would take more interest in what he had to say than had Josiah. After all, it was Grace that had led him and Abby on the search for Josiah on the day of the great blizzard. That search led to the safety of the cave through which they discovered the other world. But when he had finished his tale, the cares of this world had taken their toll. Grace smiled politely, “That’s nice, George, but I can’t go with you on something you think you saw at night. Besides, it’s been years since any of us were last in the Land of Adon. Most likely the door is closed even if you can find the cave. Quite honestly, I even find myself wondering sometimes if our trips there were real.”

Now, in the Land of Adon, George shook his head. How could Grace and Josiah not want to be in this place? Have they forgotten how much this other world means to us? Can’t they remember when Adon calls, He leads? I had no trouble finding the cave, the open door between worlds, and the way to this valley.

He shrugged his shoulders and stepped onto the golden pathway. Each step brought him deeper into Adon’s Country. And with each step he drank in the sights–the vivid cavalcade of color, the sounds–the harmony in song by that country’s wildlife, and the delicious aromas filling the air like sweet perfume filling his senses and drowning out his cares from the shadow world. He wondered, Who wouldn’t want to be here?

As he drew close to the giant pearl-like structure that formed the gate to Am’s House, he saw Abby waving to him, but not the Abby as she was on the day of the accident. His sister now possessed all the vigor of youth and had no sign of distress and wear that we all gather over the course of time. “Welcome, brother,” she called out. “Come, I have much to show you, before you return to the world you now call home–the shadow world–for everything in your world is but a shadow compared to here.” He quickened his pace and soon was led about by his guide.

It would be impossible to write down all that George saw in that house. But suffice it to say, he met Grampa, Grams, Ma, Pa, and so many more loved ones he had known. And there was much rejoicing. The house itself, although appearing as a grand house on the outside, on the inside opened to an infinite country. Cities gleamed in the distance. Fields flowed with activity. The sights, aromas, and sounds of the outside country were intensified. Yet there were halls leading to banquet chambers and gathering places where people in joyous apparel engaged in happy conversation. George marveled at it all.

Abby led him by the hand. George smiled at her touch, so solid and real. His sister was truly alive in this place. She led him all around and then down a path lined with olive trees before stopping at a gate formed from a giant emerald. “George,” she smiled, “I want you to see the home Adon made for me.”

As she opened the gate, it revealed an expansive country beyond. “George,” she smiled even more broadly than before, “You have no need to feel guilty for the day of the accident. Don’t mourn for the life I left behind in the shadowland. Rejoice with me for what Adon has given me here.” And with that she led her speechless brother through her splendid “house”–through fields of delicious wildflowers, hills covered in lush vegetation and overrun with wildlife, wonderful gardens, and so much more.

Hours passed or seemed to. Although time has no meaning in that place. Abby stopped at a rose garden with the most beautiful roses George had ever seen. Her face drew serious. “Now that you have seen this, it is time for you to return. Tell Grace and Josiah what you have witnessed.”

George’s brow wrinkled at the thought of leaving to this place of joy. “But they won’t believe me. They’ll say I just imagined this or dreamt it.”

Abby smiled even more deeply. She reached down and plucked a rose. Its sweet scent filled George’s nose. “Then take this with you and when they doubt show them this rose with no thorns, whose petals never wither, and whose fragrance never fades.”

And so, as George returned to our world with a heart heavy at the leaving of Am’s house, he thought about Abby’s home and as he thought he gained a new spring in his step.

Josiah was visiting Grace upon George’s arrival. After hearing his brother’s report, he said, “Are you sure you didn’t get tired and stop for a rest against a tree? This sounds like more of your dream, you know.”

Grace was more condescending. “Whatever that happened out there in the woods, I’m happy that you have something that gives you comfort.”

However, despite their disbelief, neither had any explanation for the rose.

After these events, George suffered many partings from loved ones–he lived long–but he had on his fireplace mantle Abby’s rose to remind him of the life he would have when he returned to Am’s House.

Author’s note: In memory of Elisia, our “Abby,” whom we look forward to meeting again one day in our heavenly Father’s house where there will be no tears. Until then we have our reminder, our rose, that never fades nor loses its savor–the Word of God.