Bugs Bunny and Heaven

I have a pretty distinct memory from when I was about seven or eight years old. I remember the exact moment it dawned on me: I’m going to die someday.

It wasn’t just the realization of death that struck me — it was the contrast. I also realized, in that same moment, that Bugs Bunny doesn’t die.

Ah, the logic of a child.

Now, my son is around that same age, and I can already see those gears beginning to turn in his mind. The questions. The quiet wonder. The hints of fear or confusion.

Death is hard to wrap your mind around — especially for a child, but honestly, even for us adults. And part of the difficulty, I think, is trying to grasp what eternity actually means. The permanence of death. The endlessness of Heaven. The foreverness of it all.

Even Heaven — as beautiful and glorious as it is — can be hard to imagine. We know it will be amazing. We trust that it will surpass our wildest dreams. But sometimes it still feels… abstract. Mysterious. Unfathomable.

Recently, though, a thought came to me: I love my family. And every day, I find that I love them just a little more than I did the day before.

Does that ever get old? Do I ever get bored of loving them more?

Surely not.

And I think that’s what Heaven will be like. Not static or monotonous, but an ever-deepening love. An endless discovery. A falling in love — again and again and again.

What could possibly be boring about that?