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“There’s a land beyond the river, that we call the sweet forever, and we only reach that shore by faith’s decree.”

So begins the wonderful old hymn “When They Ring Those Golden Bells.”

Most of us, I believe, regardless of our faith tradition, are hopeful that the hereafter is that which we have been promised.  

“One by one we gain the portals, there to dwell with the immortals, when they ring those golden bells for you and me.”  

And yes, hoping this is true, we look forward to, long for, once again being with those we loved, both family and cherished friends.

“Don’t you hear the bells now ringing? Can’t you hear the angels singing? ‘Tis the glory hallelujah jubilee.”

We really do hope such a reunion awaits us.

“When our days shall know their number, when in death we sweetly slumber, when the king commands the spirit to be free.”

There are so many I would like to see, including my childhood and life-long friends, Preston and Jack.  

When Preston sees me I think he will probably say, “Welcome, mate.” Jack will say, “What took you so long?  

“Never more with anguish laden, we shall reach that lovely Aden, when they ring those golden bells for you and me.”

Each religion promises some form of a good afterlife. Man needs hope. I am not nearly wise enough to say with absolute conviction – unwavering certainty – what the actual reality of the next dimension is. I choose, however, to be hopeful. To live without hope diminishes life, I believe.

“Don’t you hear the bells now ringing? Can’t you hear the angels singing?…”

So let us hope, friends, that they really do ring those golden bells for you and me. Let us hope…

Peace.