Closer and Closer to Heaven
My Christmas Letter 2025
For this year’s Christmas post, I’ll build on last year’s, which was about wondering if a loved one has gone to heaven (here’s the link). I’ll share about my Dad, and a dear friend I’ll call Joy.
Thankful for dementia?!
I got to visit Dad three times this year! When we moved him into a senior apartment building last year, he wanted to take lunch and dinner in the dining hall downstairs but prepare breakfast himself in his room. During my February visit, I noticed he was getting more forgetful and hadn’t eaten breakfast several days. I asked him if he would like to start having breakfast downstairs. He agreed, so I made the arrangements.
On our first call after I got home, he was excited to tell me the breakfasts are great! Then, something weird happened. My Dad said, “Thank you for helping me with breakfast.” I was stunned. Tears welled up as I struggled to reply. For the first time in my life, my father had thanked me with genuine feeling.
Growing up, I experienced my father as stern and unfeeling. Although I knew deep down he loved me in his Japanese way, there weren’t many outward displays of affection. I am much more like my father in this way than I care to admit. But this year, God began to change both of us.
Softer, kinder, and gentler
As dementia slowly takes over his cognitive and conversational abilities, my father has grown softer, kinder, and gentler. That first, heartfelt thank you was the beginning of many more. On every call the following week or two, he continued to thank me for the breakfasts, always with great sincerity. Our relationship transformed because as Dad changed, I also became softer, kinder, and gentler toward him.
During my August visit, Dad’s heartfelt thank yous continued in person, often accompanied by quiet sobs and tears. Not tears of sadness but of thanksgiving; the kind of tears you weep when something wonderful is happening; when you feel God is working.
My calls with Dad are shorter and shorter. He asks me where I am (Hawaii), and when I am coming to see him (for Christmas!). His ability to make conversation has diminished, but whenever other words fail him, he praises and thanks God with a voice choked with emotion. Praise and thanks have become his predominant language! So, instead of bemoaning his dementia, I am inspired seeing this new, grateful Dad.
John’s Revelation shows everyone in heaven praising God without ceasing:
Revelation 4:8b (NLT)
Day after day and night after night they keep on saying,
“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God, the Almighty—
the one who always was, who is, and who is still to come.”
Dementia is bringing my father closer and closer to God and this heavenly reality! When I see his eyes water and his face full of peace and joy, I think he can already see heaven’s glory.
God glorified in cancer?!
I believe my friend, Joy, experienced something similar this year on her journey to heaven. Joy was special even before she was diagnosed with cancer; her illness only magnified her “angel on earth” status.
God gives each person talents or gifts which we are to use to glorify Him and love others. One of Joy’s gifts was a keen knack to remember faces, names, and significant dates like birthdays and anniversaries of friends. Able to uplift everyone she met, she used her gift to serve as the ultimate greeter at our church. Anyone who entered was welcomed by the shining face of Jesus—through Joy.
Her warm, personal greetings were not just at church: Joy had genuine connections with virtually everyone she met. A couple days after Joy went to heaven this September, our ohana group gathered to support and grieve with her husband, Jonathan. Many shared their favorite Joy story. One friend who often volunteered to drive her to doctor’s appointments recounted how all the nurses and hospital staff would perk up and rush to say hello whenever she came. Joy would call each person by name and then proceed to ask how their mother/brother/child was doing—she remembered the smallest details about everyone! She affirmed and encouraged others with the love of God, and this endeared her to everyone who came into her orbit.
Throughout her battle with cancer, Joy continued to attend church faithfully. She also attended our ohana group by Zoom every Friday evening. No matter what was happening with her body, she continued to bless others in her singular way. The frailer her body became, the stronger God’s glory shined on her face and in her actions. She was fearless against death; she prayed for a miracle healing while still surrendering herself to whatever outcome God willed. Joy showed us how to live, sick or healthy! Our faith increased as we witnessed hers.
There were hundreds of friends praying and fasting on Joy’s behalf. One of my biggest learnings from Joy’s life is how to “pray without ceasing.” We sincerely believed God could miraculously heal her and show His almighty power. When God took her home, Joy’s battle with cancer was not lost—no!—Joy won her battle and earned her reward of eternity in heaven with God, in her heavenly body forever!
“God must increase and I must decrease” (John 3:30)
Just like my Dad, God’s increasing spirit inside Joy overcame fear, worry, and even pain. Jonathan shared how he received a condolence call from Joy’s hospice doctor. The doctor said most patients with the same type of cancer were in constant, acute pain, and need lots of pain medication. On the rare occasion Joy asked for some, she would take the smallest dose possible. She far outlived her original prognosis of 6-8 months—God kept this angel on earth with us for 35 blessed months!
At her Celebration of Life, Pastor Jordan Seng shared he was happy Joy had preceded him to heaven. If you’re familiar with Jordan’s personality, this type of puzzling comment is usually followed by a profound insight. He explained that by watching how Joy continued to praise and worship God throughout her illness, we learned the godly, gracious way to transition from earth to heaven.
2 Corinthians 4:10, 16-18 (NLT)
Through suffering, our bodies continue to share in the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies.
That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.
The closer we are to God, the brighter His light shines in us. Like Dad and Joy, even in our earthly suffering we can point others to God. With Jesus in our life, we can accept how temporal our current suffering is in light of our coming eternity in heaven. With faith, we look forward to heaven beckoning us closer and closer.
I pray my father’s and Joy’s stories will bolster your faith, or encourage you to jump into a life of faith! May you find the peace, joy, and love of Jesus this Christmas. Love, Ali
One movie and one book recommendation from this year that also inspired this post:
I recently watched a documentary interviewing dozens of people who experienced heaven (or hell). The undeniable, cogent love of God was the theme of these near-death experiences. They were sent back to life on earth with a mission to tell others that God is real. Check out this trailer for “After Death”—let me know what you think if you watch it!
One of my first highlights of 2025 was attending another Celebration of Life, for Suzanne Maurer. Suzanne wrote about finding joy and purpose even through Lou Gehrig’s Disease (ALS). Her testimony is a quick and inspiring read: “Blessed! Rape to Redemption to Rewards”.
That's a beautiful letter, Ali.
Such lovely photos of your Dad. Such a blessing for both of you to experience that closeness. 🩷
I had similar experiences with my dad when he became ill. It's like they always wanted to express that softness, but culturally it was not accepted, done or modeled.