Humorist Garrison Keillor in his delightful descriptions of the people in his fictional hometown of Lake Wobegon tells how difficult it will be for some of us to deal with that kind of perfection. He writes, "My people aren't paradise people. We've lived in Minnesota all our lives and it took a lot out of us. My people aren't sure if we'll even like paradise: not sure that perfection is all it's cracked up to be. My people will arrive in heaven and stand just inside the gate, shuffling around. `It's a lot bigger than I thought it was going to be,' we'll think. We'll say, `No, thank you, we can't stay for eternity, we'll just sit and have a few minutes of bliss with you and then we have to get back.'

"We were brought up to work, not complain, accept that life is hard, and make the best of what little we have, so when we come to the grandeur and grace of an eternal flower garden ringed by mountains beside a pale blue coral sea under the continuous sun, we naturally say, `Oh, no thanks, it's too much, really, I don't care for it, just give me some ice, please.'"

All of us will be a little like that. Heaven will be far more wonderful than we can ever imagine.