They say the best way to die is in your sleep. What they don’t tell you is that you wake up just as it happens. At least, that was my experience. I remember looking down as I departed my body—a blue solitary corpse clutching a worn-out Bible.

Farewell, broken world, I thought. Your wayward sons shall pester me no more.

A vortex of light spiraled in the ceiling, and I floated up as if emerging from the depths of a grim sea. On the surface, clouds drifted around me like ships on a blissful voyage.

The next thing I knew, I stood before the pearl gates. To my sudden dismay, an iron lock and chain strangled the bars. But then a figure appeared on the other side, running down the steps of a great hill that blocked my view of anything beyond it.

He wore a white robe, his sandals carrying him only so fast as he clutched the bars and crammed a key into the lock. With a click, the chains fell, and the gates swung open. He then looked into my eyes, and smiled.

“Welcome to heaven!” he said with a gracious bow. “We’ve been expecting you! Please—come in!”

A feeling of relief washed over me as I crossed over the great divide that segregated God’s country from the rest of the world. It was like stepping out of a liquid wall, able to move unhindered for the first time in my existence.

“There’s so much to see here—I can’t wait to show you!” my guide said, undoubtedly an angel. I followed him up the 777 steps that led to the top of the hill, not stopping once to catch my breath. At the summit, he paused and waved his hands over the whole of paradise. “See that in the middle? That’s where God lives!”

I gave a reverent bow. The palace was built of stone that shone like the sun, its outer baseline crowned in flowers of colors I had never seen, and fountains of water so clear it seemed they were empty. Its spires were so tall, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t spotted them from the gates.

This was heaven. And it was precisely how I had expected it to be.

But a cold observation gripped my spirit.

“Why is it so empty?” I asked.

The angel threw me a sideways glance. “Well, we don’t just let anyone up here, you know. And even the ones who do, they at least use the washroom—though you, of course, had no need of it.”

I pretended to understand. And in a way, I guess I did. The path was indeed narrow.

As my mind traversed the empty streets of gold—streets of the City of God (home at last!)—I couldn’t help but make another observation. Even within the gates of heaven, there were walls, and a multitude of people appeared to be on the other side.

“Who are they?” I asked, looking to the west.

“Oh, them? Those are the people who didn’t really believe—not like you, anyway. They made it but ‘by the skin of their teeth,’ as they say. They’re not like you, so they have to live outside the walls. Don’t worry, I’ll see to it they won’t bother you.”

I nodded. Not everyone sought the Truth like I did.

Then I noticed more people outside the wall to the east. “What about them?”

“Those are the people who believed, yes, but weren’t ‘on the right side of things,’ some might say. Don’t mind them, they’re a mirthful bunch, and they won’t come anywhere near where you’re staying.”

I nodded again, then faced north to rest my weary eyes on the glory of God. But behind his palace was another wall, and more people beyond that. Three groups, to be precise, and all keeping an agreeable distance from each other. “And them?”

“Ah, yes. Well, here we go—from left to right: We have those who wore jeans with holes in them whenever they went to church—which wasn’t often, mind you. Then we have those who dressed well enough and attended church each and every Sunday, yet they paid no heed to the midweek services. And last, we have those who donned their suits and ties, went to church whenever the doors were open, and were involved in all kinds of mission work—some were even martyred in the jungles—but they would read from a ‘red-letter’ edition of the Bible, and let’s face it, none of the letters in the original manuscripts were red.”

I nodded one last time. A slow, solemn nod. One that I thought would have been left in the world behind me. Lowering my gaze, I saw a pristine mansion along the road to God’s palace. It had its own gardens and fountains and no neighbors to the north nor south, to the east nor west.

“And who lives down there, closest to God?”

“Why, that’s where you’ll live! Looks cozy, doesn’t it? You’ll be able to live there all by lonesome, undisturbed by any of those other people.”

I was certain he could see the puzzled expression on my face.

“You see, you’re the only one with all the checkmarks. I mean, who would want all those other people stumbling around up here? But you—you’re just the way everyone ought to be.”

I didn’t nod. This time, I shivered.

“Look, I know you’re new up here, so let me explain. We try to accommodate every soul to their level of perfection, and there’s just no one good enough to be on the same cloud as you—trust me, I checked! This way, you can spend your eternity the way you expect it.”

I could only stare.

“Well, enjoy your stay! Ring if you should need anything!”

With that, the angel fluttered away, heading toward one of the walls but abruptly changed his direction when he saw that I was watching.

This was heaven. And it was precisely how I had expected it to be. Who belonged and who did not. The good inside, the bad outside, and the gray in between. It wasn’t a place for all but rather a place just for me. The reward for my toil. Perfection achieved.

They say heaven can’t be described with words. What they don’t tell you is not every slice of heaven is worth describing. At least, that was my experience. I remember looking down at all the other clouds beneath mine until the truth finally revealed itself to me.

This was no heaven. It was hell. And it was precisely how I had expected it to be.