After we died and go to Heaven (if we're good or believe in Christ if you're a Christian), do you want to meet Michael Jackson in Heaven? If 1 million people want to meet Michael Jackson, is that possible? That's a lot of time to wait to greet him. Mabye in Heaven, life would be the same as right now on Earth and each person has their own life to live and their own house to live in. And you can only meet MJ if he do a concert.
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Meeting Michael Jackson in Heaven
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#applehead24
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Oh I would LOVE to meet Michael in heaven! Imagine getting to hear his angelic voice praise the name of God! Wait, this is in fan-fic so I gotta write it as a story.
"Well done my good and faithful servant." I smile as I finally get to hear those words, tears flowing down my face. I did it... no, He did it! He let me live! I walk up to my King and hold his nail-scarred hand as we walk through the pearly gates, the gold street beneath my feet. There is so much going on, I hear singing in the distance, it sounds familiar, like from a memory long ago. Children are playing and dancing, animals roaming and angels flying. Nobody is hurt, nobody is sick, everything is full of light and joy. It's perfect.
Jesus goes to tell of his time on earth to a group of children as I am guided to the throne room, the music and voices getting louder. The voice I heard earlier isn't over here though, but I am drawn to the throne none the less. "Holy Holy Holy is the LORD God Almighty" I hear the angels sing as they soar through the air, worshiping the Creator. I bow low in front of Him, I can't get low enough to show my gratitude, honor, praise, and humility.
As I go in search of my baby brother I hear that voice again. The singing is beautiful, better than any angel I have heard in my short time here. I am drawn to the sound of worship as I walk among the saints and my brothers and sisters in Christ. The voice grows louder and I begin to hear more voices as they join in, there is a crowd - no, that's not right - a mass gathering of people in and around this giant tree in a...a garden? No, that's not quite right. This place...does it even have a name in heaven? The voice is coming from someone in the tree. As I start to climb I catch a glimpse of the one who owns this magical voice.
I see long, bronze legs in white socks, black moccasins and pants dangling from a branch above me. As I continue to ascend I begin to see a vivid yellow shirt on a man with a chiseled jaw with a smile radiating pure joy and dark eyes looking for his Savior among the throng of people, his hands high above his thick curly hair in praise. He helps me onto his branch as I join him in my pitch-y voice but become quiet and just listen.
As the song comes to an end I ask for my brother's name. His response, Michael. I smile at the name, one of the angels has the same one. He asks for mine and I give it a long with a hug, glad to worship and be here in heaven with this man. I wonder if I knew him when I was on earth... but that seems so long ago... and so insignificant compared to my time here...
"Well done my good and faithful servant." I smile as I finally get to hear those words, tears flowing down my face. I did it... no, He did it! He let me live! I walk up to my King and hold his nail-scarred hand as we walk through the pearly gates, the gold street beneath my feet. There is so much going on, I hear singing in the distance, it sounds familiar, like from a memory long ago. Children are playing and dancing, animals roaming and angels flying. Nobody is hurt, nobody is sick, everything is full of light and joy. It's perfect.
Jesus goes to tell of his time on earth to a group of children as I am guided to the throne room, the music and voices getting louder. The voice I heard earlier isn't over here though, but I am drawn to the throne none the less. "Holy Holy Holy is the LORD God Almighty" I hear the angels sing as they soar through the air, worshiping the Creator. I bow low in front of Him, I can't get low enough to show my gratitude, honor, praise, and humility.
As I go in search of my baby brother I hear that voice again. The singing is beautiful, better than any angel I have heard in my short time here. I am drawn to the sound of worship as I walk among the saints and my brothers and sisters in Christ. The voice grows louder and I begin to hear more voices as they join in, there is a crowd - no, that's not right - a mass gathering of people in and around this giant tree in a...a garden? No, that's not quite right. This place...does it even have a name in heaven? The voice is coming from someone in the tree. As I start to climb I catch a glimpse of the one who owns this magical voice.
I see long, bronze legs in white socks, black moccasins and pants dangling from a branch above me. As I continue to ascend I begin to see a vivid yellow shirt on a man with a chiseled jaw with a smile radiating pure joy and dark eyes looking for his Savior among the throng of people, his hands high above his thick curly hair in praise. He helps me onto his branch as I join him in my pitch-y voice but become quiet and just listen.
As the song comes to an end I ask for my brother's name. His response, Michael. I smile at the name, one of the angels has the same one. He asks for mine and I give it a long with a hug, glad to worship and be here in heaven with this man. I wonder if I knew him when I was on earth... but that seems so long ago... and so insignificant compared to my time here...