I'll never forget the way my daughter said that word as we came upon this field.

She, my oldest son and I were hiking on an unusually pleasant March evening. There were trails, but we went our own way to the top of the hill. Slowly, we trudged through prickly thorns and itchy cedar trees. As we pulled back the last of the branches she stopped. In the softest, yet surest voice she simply said, "Heaven."

The setting sun sent soft rays of warm light cascading over the early spring grass and a slight mist of dew was forming in the distance. In her wonderful little 4 year old mind, this is what heaven looked like.

Time almost stood still in that moment. It really was beautiful. For a second, it really was heaven.

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