Finality

    

Two years ago today. 

I vividly remember taking these photos. I vividly remember the conversations that took place in the airport coffee shop just before snapping them. Mom and I held hands and cried. We had just come to the end of an incredible 12 days together. She had to leave, but neither of us wanted her to go. We vowed to remember that even if this was our last time to part ways, we would say, "see you later," because as members of God's kingdom, there are no permanent goodbyes. 

No finality. 

As I spend time here in my passport country, sorting through her clothes and belongings, there are times I forget the 'no finality' part. It just hurts. The wounds feel fresh. The grief is grueling. The photo reminder that it's just been 2 years since I was in her physical presence hit a little harder today. 

I pray that she never wondered, even for one second, whether I loved her. I pray she never questioned how much she meant to me. I pray that she never felt used, abused, or belittled by me. I pray there was never a day she felt afraid in my presence. I pray after her long life of feeling all of that regularly, that she felt a peace, a comfort, a 'home' with me. She said so, and I trust that it was genuine. 

Above all, there is great joy in knowing that she is now in the presence of pure love, pure truth, pure peace. There are moments when my longing for her feels so heavy I fear it will crush me, and it would if I did not give it to the Lord.  

Isaiah 53:4a "Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows..." 

Mom has joined that great cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1), and though I don't see her with my eyes, she is still with me. (Half of my DNA is hers!) We will meet again in the new heaven and earth.

Revelation 21:4 "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, not pain anymore, for the former things have passed away." 

[This is true finality.] 

See you later, mom. I love you MOST.