Jill Eileen Smith, Author

	Seeking Treasureland A story by Jill Eileen Smith Chapter Five A pure white light blazed from one corner of the sky. The air grew still. Pastor Winston grasped Mark's and Chelsea's hands. "Come on," he called running toward the bright glow at the top of a hill. Sarah and Manuel panted after him. At the crest, they looked back toward the Treasureland path's narrow gate. Pastor Winston stopped and pointed. "More people are finding the path," Pastor Winston said with a smile. "Perhaps they, too, will enter at the narrow gate and make it to the cross." Sarah tugged Pastor Winston's sleeve and pointed toward the wider road. "But look at the mob of people going the other way." A shudder worked through her at sight of a familiar face. "There's Prince." "Oh, Pastor Winston, he's leading so many people the wrong way," Chelsea shook her head, her blue eyes sad. "Look! Even the people at the Treasureland gate are turning toward him. They won't make it if they follow him." Pastor Winston patted Chelsea's shoulder. "Jesus is stronger than the Pretender, Chelsea. If they seek Jesus, they will find Him." He turned in the opposite direction toward the other side of the hill. Sarah followed his gaze, her heart beating wildly as the pure white light grew closer, brighter. "Come, we're almost there," Pastor Winston called. Sarah watched, the expectant feeling making her skin tingle. Pastor Winston walked down the hill, beckoning them to follow. Manuel and Mark raced ahead of Sarah and Chelsea. "Where are we going, Pastor Winston?" Manuel asked out of breath at the foot of the hill. Pastor Winston led the children into a garden and stopped in front of a shallow cave. Inside, a stone ledge ran the length of the wall. Folded white cloths lay at one end. "Is that Jesus' empty tomb?" Sarah asked. The pure white light flashed at the cave's entrance, nearly blinding them. "Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen!" The voice came from one of two flaming white angels at the front of the cave. Pastor Winston opened his mouth as if to speak when the wind shifted and the angel disappeared. The cave stood vacant before them and another path appeared to their right. "This way," Pastor Winston said, taking Chelsea's hand. They walked beside a green meadow, for a short distance, and then came to a sparkling river, clear as glass. A ferry boat bobbed in the water near the bank and on the opposite shore, a pure white gate stood, gleaming in the afternoon sun. A golden sign above the gate read, "Treasureland". "Are we really here?" Chelsea asked in a small voice. Sarah put her arm around her sister's thin shoulders. "Treasureland!" Mark said in awe. "Wow!" Pastor Winston stepped onto the ferry and helped each child board after him. His smile stretched wider than Prince's ever did, and Sarah noted the twinkle in his eye held genuine warmth. Pastor Winston grabbed a long stick to propel the ferry across the river. When they reached the shore, they scrambled up the bank and stood before the enormous gate. It looked like a giant pearl! The walls surrounding the pearl shone bright, like the most precious jewels. An angel opened Treasureland's gate as they approached, and a brilliant, blinding, multi-colored light swirled around them. Golden streets cradled Sarah's feet as they stepped inside and up ahead there appeared to be a beautiful, bustling city. Pure light, brighter than the whitest snow, filled every corner of a palace-like room. Colors in shades she'd never seen before flooded her senses. She turned to look at Chelsea but instead found herself wrapped in the arms of her parents and then her grandparents. And suddenly, relatives she had only seen in family albums, and relatives she had never heard of, recognized her. There was joy and laughter as she hugged them all. From the pages of the Bible, people she'd only heard about moved about her. Noah, Elijah, Esther, David, Ruth, Solomon, Mary, Joseph and so many more. Sarah. Sarah turned, drawn by the voice. Her feet carried her forward, toward a dazzling light, radiating from what could only be God's throne. Winged angels flew before the throne, crying "holy, holy, holy," while flashes of lightning and peals of thunder shook the golden ground beneath her. Jesus, in robes of flaming white with a golden sash across his chest, stood to the right of the Father's throne. Sarah fell on her face, shaking at sight of them. She didn't deserve to be here. How could she even look at the Savior after all the wrong things she'd done? An angel tapped her shoulder. "Don't fear, child. The Father bids you come," he said. Sarah lifted her face, feeling wet tears on her cheeks. "Come here, Sarah," a voice from the throne called to her. She stepped forward, amazed at the peace in her heart. Tender love filled His gaze. She knelt at his feet. "Does she have the seal?" she heard the Father ask the Son. "She has the seal of the Spirit," the Son replied. "You have accepted my Son's gift of forgiveness, little one?" the Father asked. Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat. "I don't deserve the gift, Father. But I have accepted it." The Father smiled, stretched His arms and pulled Sarah onto His lap. "I've loved you since time began," he told her. "I'm glad you took the gift." Sarah closed her eyes, drinking in the joy. But when she opened them a moment later, the scene changed. They were back in the Imagination House behind the church, with the glow of Treasureland a mere memory in her heart. "Oh, does it have to end?" Sarah asked, amazed at the disappointment she felt. "It was all so real!" "It seemed real because the story is true." Pastor Winston moved to the door. "Come outside." The children followed him to a big oak tree in front of the Imagination House and sat at his feet. Pastor Winston knelt in the soft grass. "Our journey to Treasureland ends here, but the journey to Heaven has just begun." He smiled at each one. "What you learned along the path to Treasureland, the story of Jesus and the scenes at the cross and the empty tomb--it's all true. Those things really happened a long time ago. "The truth nuggets you found told the lesson that Jesus wants each of us to learn so that we can one day be with him in Heaven. Did you all understand what you saw?" Sarah nodded. "I'd heard the story before, had even memorized a lot of Bible verses, but it didn't make sense until now. At the cross, in there," she pointed to the Imagination House., "I didn't just believe in my imagination, Pastor Winston." She tapped the left side of her chest. "I believed it here, in my heart." "That's when it becomes real," Pastor Winston said smiling again. "When the truth travels from our head to our heart, when we believe it with everything that is in us, and trust in the Lord with all our heart, that's when we come to truly begin to know Jesus. We continue to know him better every day of our lives until we get to Heaven." "Is Heaven as pretty as Treasureland?" Chelsea asked, her golden hair showing shades of amber in the light of the setting sun. "I can't wait to go there!" Pastor Winston glanced at the sky then looked at each of the children. "The Bible teaches us that Heaven is a real place with streets of gold and gates of pearl. The walls are made of jewels and there is no night there. Jesus is the light that illumines the whole place. The holy city is very much like Treasureland, I think." A car door slammed and Sarah could hear her mother's voice calling from across the church parking lot. Their adventure of seeking Treasureland had ended. Her adventure of following Jesus on her journey toward Heaven had just begun. The End Author's Note: I wrote the original version of this story in 1992. In 1998 the Lord used it to lead my youngest son, Ryan, to faith in Christ. Since then, I have longed to share the story with others but wasn't sure which avenue to pursue. Now that I have a website, I've sensed the Lord telling me to offer it here, free to all who want to read it. So please, feel free to use this story in your church groups or Bible classes or anywhere that the Lord might lead you to share the gospel with adults and children alike. It is my offering to the Lord and to you. May God use this story in some small way to bring people to the cross--and to saving faith in Him. In His Grace, ~Jill Eileen Smith