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And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them, he will wipe away every tear from their eyes." (vv. 3-4a)


Our daughter, Nicole, was born November 16, 1998, a beautiful and apparently healthy baby. Betsy and I were elated. Several days later, our dreams and aspirations for a healthy first child, and our parents' first grandchild, came crashing down. Nicole had a hypoplastic left heart, which means she was born with only one of the two pumping chambers, or ventricles, in her heart. She also had what the doctors called "transposition of the greater vessels." Her aorta and pulmonary artery were transposed. The doctors did everything they could to save Nicole, but her heart could not support her tiny body. She passed away on November 24, at the age of eight days.

Betsy and I, and all of our family, were devastated. It was the most difficult and soul searching event in our lives. It has been a challenge to our faith. We have wondered why God would want to take a seemingly perfect child from us.

Six months later, in May of 1999, we were still wondering, when I had a startling dream which caused me to sit bolt upright in bed and to begin sweating profusely. The dream involved a message from two very important men in my life, my own dear grandfather, Clarence Eisenga, and Betsy's grandfather, Harold Bergman, a man I had never met.

Grandpa Eisenga was a large man, with a big heart, whose weathered body showed many signs of his almost seventy years of farming. His posture and pose were impressive. His hands and feet were huge. I will never forget being enveloped in his enormous lap and the safety it provided throughout my childhood and much of my adolescence. Grandpa was a devoutly Christian man who often spoke, with a tear in his eye, of the importance of family and of the absolute necessity of a Christian home. He was very proud of his family, especially all of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Grandpa became ill shortly after Nicole died and went to heaven in March of 1999.

It seemed very natural, that night, to find myself sitting again in Grandpa's big, comfortable lap. I saw a bright round light, and in its shadow, on one side, the well-lit image of Harold Bergman, the man I had never met; Betsy's grandfather who died in 1986, long before she and I had even dated.

I had seen many pictures of Harold. He was a strapping man who loved people and revelled in the sales work he did for the family paper company. Like my grandfather, Harold loved God and he adored his family. All of his grandchildren referred to him fondly as "Bumpa." He was a longtime active member of Wauwatosa Avenue United Methodist Church, where Betsy and I are now members. I always wished that I had met him and been able to know him.

Harold was holding a baby girl in his arms. He was looking down in fondness at the baby and never really looked up at me until the very end of the dream. I remember gazing down and seeing Grandpa Eisenga's work jeans. I never saw his face, but I felt the unmistakable presence of his lap. I know I was in Grandpa's lap, because I heard his deep, somewhat slurred voice reassure me, saying only, "We are just fine." While it seems disconnected, all I remember next is looking at the bright, round light, now with Grandpa's back to me, silhouetted against it. As he walked closer to Harold and the baby, Harold passed the baby into Grandpa's arms, and then Harold spoke to me for the first time ever. While I cannot describe the sound of his voice, or exactly what he said, I know I will hear him again one day and I will know him instantly. He said something to the effect, "Like you and Betsy are a family, we too are a family here. We love you very much."

Call me clueless, but until he said that, it had not hit me that the baby was Nicole. This discovery startled me and I awoke. I found myself sitting upright in bed, something that has never happened to me before or since, and I immediately started to sweat. It must have been about 1 a.m. I remember lying awake for over an hour, trying to make sense out of what I had seen and heard.

Was there a message I was supposed to receive from this "vision"? The images and tones in my vision were not soft, as one might expect, but very sharp and clear. The message was clear, too, that we should always remember that we have family in heaven, caring for those who go before us, and that our family on earth carries over into heaven. I believe that Harold taught Nicole and Grandpa Eisenga how to "touch" people on earth. He has always been described to me as a "people person" while he was on earth, and has seemingly remained active in the afterlife. Harold appeared several times to family and friends while we lived in his former house in Wauwatosa. I think he and Grandpa wanted to let us know that all is right in heaven by reinforcing the tie between earthly and heavenly families.

These men were father figures in many people's lives while they were here, and were the patriarchs of their families. Their values and their compassion are instilled in each of those they left behind. Someday, I, too, will be a patriarch. I have these men and their legacy to maintain and uphold.

There are many things I have learned and been forced to think through after Nicole's and Grandpa's deaths. This vision is sure to bring new meaning as I continue to understand its message.