Inside: Over time, the truth that our loved ones are with Jesus can sink more deeply into our hearts and bring fresh comfort, even during seasons of greater grief and remembrance. ~
It’s been almost four years since my parents went home to heaven. I’ve had plenty of time to process, to write, to talk at length about what happened.
At times, though, I still can’t believe it. It all happened so fast. In my mind, I was so young.
Age is Relative
Forty-eight, which is how old I was when my parents died, seems ancient to my young adult daughters.
But I had never lost a close loved one before. While I’d supported and prayed for friends traveling the dark road of grief, I had not trudged down it myself.
The two people who knew and loved me my entire life, who lived nearby for their last 13 years, were gone. Within five weeks of each other, after an intense season of decline.
Just Being Human
I’ve heard people talk about their desires for their aging or terminally ill parents to live longer—or for their mom or dad to want to do everything possible to stay alive—as if those desires had been selfish.
I think they’re being too hard on themselves. Those desires aren’t selfish; they’re human.
People who have more life experience, endured more sorrow or had parents who suffered greatly before they died might have other—perhaps wiser or kinder—perspectives about trying to keep people alive as long as possible.
I Get That
The long walk home is different for everyone, and for everyone’s loved ones.
In hindsight, having read more about mortality and end-of-life issues, I understand a few things now that I couldn’t comprehend before.
Blessing in Disguise
Given what’s happened in the world the last three years, I also see now that it was a sad kind of blessing that my parents died in 2019. Before 2020 and all that followed.
If they had survived the Covid pandemic while living in a nursing home, my mom would be turning 91 in May, my dad 90. Realistically, Covid or not, there’s a good chance they wouldn’t have lived that long anyway.
Comfort for the Heart
My logical mind finds solace in these thoughts. Lately, though, another thought has been comforting my heart. It’s been there all along, but for some reason, it’s speaking louder than it was before.
It’s the biblical truth that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. According to 2 Corinthians 5:8, the later actually was the Apostle Paul’s preference.
“We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord.” (KJV, emphasis mine)
Who Knows?
While thick books have been written about heaven, we don’t know much about what it’s really like. The Bible offers imagery and bits of commentary here and there. Theologians over the years have offered their best guesses about what it all means.
But I don’t think our human minds can even begin to imagine it.
Perhaps you’ve heard, as I have, comments about loved ones looking down on us or being reunited with each other in heaven when they die. Those are nice ideas, but again, we can’t really know for sure whether they represent present reality.
One Sure Thing
What we can be certain of is what 2 Corinthians 5:8 makes clear: that when a believer dies, his body stays in the ground and his soul enters God’s presence.
He is, as the NIV puts it, “Away from the body and at home with the Lord” (emphasis mine).
When we lose a loved one, it’s normal and natural to focus on what we’ve lost. I miss my parents more than I can say, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.
Finally Home
But these days, the thought that two of the people I always felt most at home with are “at home with the Lord” is tempering my sadness with joy in a fresh, new way.
I have no idea what a soul looks or acts like. I wonder how all those saints that have gone before us fit in heaven. I’m curious about whether they can see each other or sense each other’s presence.
However it all works, my parents—and your believing loved ones who have died—are with Jesus. Somehow, their souls are in the presence of the Alpha and Omega, the wonderful Counselor, the Savior of the world, the Great I Am, the Good Shepherd, the Prince of Peace, the Ancient of Days.
Unimaginable
Can you even imagine such a breathtaking experience?
I can’t, that’s for sure. I just know this:
Whatever it looks like, sounds like or feels like, it’s better than here.
Not only better, better by far. (Philippians 1:23, NIV, emphasis added)
♥ Lois
The long walk home is different for everyone, and for everyone’s loved ones. Share on X The souls of our departed loved ones are in the presence of the Alpha and Omega, the Great I Am, the Good Shepherd, the Prince of Peace, the Ancient of Days. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.
