A CLOSE ENCOUNTER OF A DIFFERENT KIND

I've always appreciated the deductive reasoning process which goes something like this.

All Toronto Maple Leaf fan dream in blue and white.

Rob is a Maple Leaf fan.

Therefore, Rob dreams in blue and white.

That type of logic is probably why I used to enjoy watching Columbo so much and why I've watched 155 episodes of Bones on Netflix over the past six months.

I'm also enjoying reading Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis, a series of radio talks from 1941 that make a reasoned investigation into the authenticity of the Good News story in the Bible.

The author's rational arguments are both clever and compelling and are most helpful with my analytical approach to my faith. Though my belief in heaven is unassailable, I often wonder about the afterlife, especially these days as my mother continues to linger just of outside the pearly gates.

I have difficulty with the concept of heaven being a place where we join a choir of white clad angels to sing about the glory of God. It's not that I don't like singing; it's just that my reason tells me that if this life is about challenge and growth, why is the next described by some as static and one dimensional? That doesn't work for me. And do we really get reunited with our loved ones? What happens if some of them don't make it? How can that make me happy eternally? And don't get me started on purgatory!

I suppose, at my core, I am a doubting Thomas.

And then something happens that flies in the face of all logic and makes me think there's much more to the whole ball game than syllogisms.

Let me explain.

It's just after midnight and I'm awakened by laughter, girlish laughter coming from my mother's main floor bedroom.

That can't be my mom, I mumble to myself.

I sit up and take a moment to get my bearings. I'm not a Jack in the Box sleeper like Terry.

More laughing, then talking.

"Is that you my dear?" I hear my mother ask playfully.

"Why are you all covered in white? Is that really you?"

"Oh my good Lord. Oh my goodness, it is you?"

Although my mom had no memory of her 'dream' the next morning, her close encounter of a different kind makes me realize that there are things that happen that can't be put under a microscope or into an equation; indeed, things like my mother's vision that help this doubting Thomas have a little more faith.