Sitting in the back of my grandmas car after church on a Sunday

The wind whooshing through the back seat from the open window

She asked if I wanted to go to heaven, I said someday

She said “do you believe Jesus Christ, died on the cross for your sins and came back from the dead?” I said I do

I never cried

But that was the day that a 6 year old died in the backseat of her 84 Plymouth

Now heaven is the place I haven’t been but yet I miss it?

Or do I miss the people from my life who now call it home?

I’m curious but not in any rush to know

I strive so hard for the unattainable version of myself that I want to be

But it’s hardly every the cross that gets me down on my knees

Been 22 years since that car ride and I still teeter the line

My soul is in bondage and I can feel the lion

On the prowl towards me, it’s days prey

My back against the wall all I can do is pray

I shattered the cage my shackles unchained

I come out a new man, saved, unscathed

What good is this body full of flesh?

For when I die it’s the only thing that’s left

I walk with the Lord, I never walk alone

I died in that backseat, and Heaven is my home