I’ve read plenty of books that moved me. I’ve read plenty of Scripture that shattered me. But I don’t know that I’ve ever read a more human, haunting, and holy book than Heaven, How I Got Here by Colin Smith.
It’s a small book. Short. Simple. But it’ll wreck you—and rebuild you.
Because it doesn’t tell the story of a theologian, a pastor, or a great missionary. No. It tells the story of the last person Jesus ever spoke to before He died.
The thief on the cross.
We know him. We’ve heard his voice echo across the centuries from Luke’s Gospel:
“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
And Jesus said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”
That’s it. That’s all he said. One desperate, dying sentence to a broken, bleeding Savior.
But Colin Smith pulls us into the thief’s soul. His fear. His regret. His shame. His surprise. His salvation.
The whole book is told from the perspective of this criminal—already in heaven—looking back on the last day of his life. He’s walking us through the hours. His crimes. His mocking. His moment of clarity. His belief. His rescue.
And I have to tell you: it’s personal.
Because we all want to believe that God forgives. That He welcomes. That there’s a place for people like us. But deep down, too many of us doubt it. We think we’ve gone too far. We’ve failed too often. We’ve made too many compromises, told too many lies, looked away too many times.
The thief proves us wrong.
He had nothing to offer. He didn’t get baptized. Didn’t join a church. Didn’t fix his life. Didn’t even get the chance to say “sorry” to the people he’d hurt.
All he did… was believe.
That’s the heart of this book. The cross-leveling grace of Jesus. Not a God who waits for us to get it right. A God who walks straight into the muck with us, looks us in the eye, and says, “Today… with me… in paradise.”
And it couldn’t be more relevant.
Right now, we live in a world saturated with guilt and addicted to shame. We pretend we’re okay. We pose online, post pictures, spout opinions. But at 2:00 a.m., when the noise dies down, we wonder if God still wants us.
This book is your answer.
It’s the reminder that if there was grace for a dying criminal on a Roman cross, there’s grace for you.
There’s grace for the addict. The cheat. The bitter. The angry. The guy who blew up his marriage. The girl who can’t forgive herself for the abortion. The pastor who quit. The man who drinks too much. The woman who lies to everyone about how “fine” she is.
There’s room in heaven for one more.
The thief didn’t get there because of what he’d done. He got there because of what Jesus did.
Smith, in beautiful, poignant prose, lets the thief tell it. And it hits you like a freight train because it’s not just a story. It’s our story. His words could be our words. His regrets could be our regrets. His moment of belief could be our moment—right now.
And here’s the wild part: the thief, for all his sin and all his shame, is the first man in history to walk through the gates of heaven with Jesus.
Think about that.
Not Moses. Not Abraham. Not David. Not Paul.
A criminal.
The first soul to walk into paradise with the King of kings… was a man who deserved hell.
You need to sit with that.
Smith’s little book doesn’t waste words. Every page is soaked in grace. Every paragraph aches with honesty. You see the nails. You hear the cries. You feel the sunlight fading. And then—through the darkness—you see the spark of belief.
It’s a book for Easter, yes. But it’s also a book for every single one of us who wonders if it’s too late. If we’ve done too much. If Jesus still opens the door.
He does.
That’s why you need to experience this story. And not just read it.
So here’s what I want you to do:
Click here and watch the full-length film adaptation of the book.
Bring your doubts. Bring your wounds. Bring your regrets.
And meet the Man on the middle cross—the One who never turns away a dying thief.