I know I seem to have a lot of wishes for heaven (see here and here). I should probably just be grateful to get in! I would be..TRUST ME on that one.

But in the chance that I do get in, I have another request:

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I’m taking a class through Boise State this semester. I am actually taking the class on campus. I haven’t taken a class on campus since I was getting my undergrad in 2007! I’ve taken classes but they’ve been a week long, or a few weekends, or a day or two packed full.

On Monday, I felt nervous about the first day of school all over again. I triple checked the building and room number for my one measly class. I got a notebook and some pens and I headed off to my old stomping grounds.

Anytime I pull into Boise I wax nostalgic…big time! I can’t help it, just the sights are filled with so many beautiful memories. Get me on campus and I am like an elderly person who has a stranger visiting her in the nursing home. I am full of stories and wise words. Sometimes I share them with those around me and other times I just recite them in my own head. Either way, the campus has a power to it.

As I parked and took my first few steps onto the same sidewalk I crossed thousands of times, tears filled my eyes. I do not lie about this, that is how much I loved school. It felt so right good to be back, but it also felt a little strange. I felt naked without a backpack. I felt overdressed coming straight from work. I felt old, even though it felt like I had just walked away from campus for the last time yesterday.

As I walked past each building I recalled beautiful memories. From Misty and Josh waiting for Jonnie and me after anthropology, to walking with Misty from class to class, to stopping to talk to any boy from any of my classes that I may have had a crush on while on my way to a different class, to memories of me throwing myself over in a fit of laughter mid-walk across campus with Misty by my side–surely laughing about something having to do with Julius, Angie, or metaphase 2.

I recalled a very bad day I was having. Jonnie and I had just finished a final in one of our classes (I thought I’d failed, but I hadn’t) and he went with me to sell back my books. They offered my something like $4.00 for three books. I nearly cried and Jonnie started laughing really hard. He walked with me to the sub for the finals fun that took place there: video games, stress balls, etc. We took a seat in one of the booths and started passing out these graduation fans that were just sitting on a table to passersby. We thought it was funny of us.

I recalled Tuesday nights where Misty and I took classes and met for dinner afterwards. I specifically remembered the one time that my class was cancelled so I just sat in on Misty’s class. I participated in a group and everything. I met Derek that night. The class was discussing Martin Luther King vs. Malcolm X and Derek said, “Yeah, but Malcolm X died fighting for what he believed.” I turned my head around and stated, “So did Martin Luther King!” Misty and I had a good laugh about that over dinner at Cafe Ole that night.

I remembered dozens of little things that I think I’d forgotten. I remembered professors I loved, things I learned, things I saw/did/ate, etc.

Then I had a funny thought. “I wish I had been a blogger back then.” Not only because I would have been funny but because everything would have been recorded. Memories would never be lost.

And then I uttered a silent prayer of request. “Please Heavenly Father, can I watch my life again once it’s over?!”

Of course, I would like my mistakes edited out. I believe they would be if I have asked for forgiveness.

But oh man, what I wouldn’t give to get to watch my college years again. Or my childhood again. Or the night I met Zach and the months directly following.

What I wouldn’t give to watch myself graduate from high school and then celebrate with my friends that night, or to watch my wedding day all over again, or to watch a karaoke party at my grandma’s house from back in middle school.

My life has been blessed with many rich memories. I’m sure watching it all over again would mean many hearty laughs and probably a lot more tears. Some of joy and some of grief and some somewhere between.

What I wouldn’t give.

If there are “movies” of our lives in Heaven, what would you want to see?