I vividly remember the time it occurred to me to ask my mom what it meant to go to Heaven. We were driving to my grandparents’ house in San Antonio, and we were probably a block or two away. I’d been thinking about it for much of the drive from our home in Houston, and I finally just spit it out.“Mom, what do we do in Heaven?”The fact that I so vividly remember asking the question but have absolutely no recollection of the answer is probably telling, but I was legitimately concerned. Do we all sit on clouds and play harps for eternity, as is depicted...
