Today where I live, it is a “perfect day”. The temperature had the first nip of fall, this morning in the mid-sixties, low humidity and sunshine. There is a continuous breeze. I hear the cicadas, and I hear the sound of hammer on wood someplace close by. I feel drowsy, and something about this kind of day, tends to set my mind to sifting around in memories. Grandma’s house, I am fifteen, the grass is so green, the hills are so lovely, wildflowers grow in the field, and the cow’s moo carries across on the breeze. Being young. Life ahead is just blank pages yet to be written.
Thoughts of when my babies were little, the sound of their feet, running barefoot on wooden floors. Their laughter. Voices of bigger kids shouting to one another down the street, drift in through open doors and windows. The rumble of the school busses in the afternoon, smell of something good cooking on a grill.
Nap on the couch with a baby lying asleep on my chest.
Hyacinths and tulips in Spring, morning glories and jasmine on the fence. Azaleas covered in blooms.
Sound of an ice cream truck. Hurry and catch him!
I can remember that even from when I was little too. How excited we would get, and how delicious and refreshing was a sugary dripping popsicle on a hot, hot summer day when the tar on the road bubbled from the heat.
The first day warm enough to go barefoot in the grass, and how it tickled on feet softened over winter.
This feeling of sublime contentment and peace, reminiscing over the sweetest things of life, this is what I think heaven will feel like. But bigger, better, more.
I bet we will be very surprised the day we see the curse removed from the Earth when Jesus reigns. We probably don’t have the slightest inkling as to how diminished things are, compared to how He created them. I think of folks who are colorblind and get those enchroma glasses from someone as a gift. They always cry, because they experience something new and beautiful when they see the world in full color for the first time. I know we can’t imagine heaven, but I look forward to the beauty we will see.
I’m looking forward to seeing my Dad, my grandparents, and the ones before them who died before I was born, ones I have never met, but whom I resemble, or share personality traits with.
I read a story this week. Can’t recall where. About an Uber driver who arrived to pick up a young lady downtown around dusk. He waited as she hugged several friends, and noticed her eyes were a little glassy and bloodshot as she got in. He figured she was a little buzzed, after dinner out with the girls. He asked where to, and she gave her address, but then asked if he minded just driving around a while out by the river. She was quiet, and he took a quick glance back at her through the rearview mirror. She looked very sad, yet there was a slight smile there. She had her hand out the window, swooping up and down in the wind like a kid does. “Fun night out?”, he asked. She didn’t answer right away, but softly, after a moment, she said, “last day at my job, a farewell party. I have cancer and I’m dying. They don’t know. I told them I was taking a new job out of state. I didn’t want them to be sad, or feel sorry for me. I just wanted one more night of being young and carefree with my friends.”
You just never know.
I remember when I was carrying our first son. I just couldn’t project into the future and contemplate the joy I was soon to experience. I had nothing to go by, to even try and imagine how my life would change. God knows what He is doing. The very second they laid that baby in my arms and I looked into his eyes, I loved him fiercely. That is amazing. How does that happen? With our second, I felt that love for him before he was born. I understood what I was in for. With the first, I literally was not comprehending this actual personhood forming in my belly. I felt like an alien parasite had invaded my body and was rudely shoving aside my vital organs to hog the whole space for itself. It was comically irrational for me to feel that way at thirty years old and an RN to boot, but there it is.
I haven’t spent much time trying to imagine the grandson who will be here in just under 3 weeks. Frankly, I have thought more about the fact that my daughter-in-law might be coersed into taking the jab. The danger supposedly is mostly in the 1st and second trimester, but the more I hear about this vaccine that isn’t actually a vaccine, the more nefarious it seems. But you know, getting through these days with your joy intact, all hinges on drawing near to God and keeping your eyes and mind on Him.
For now, all is well in my little corner of the world, and I think I will go on enjoying this nice day, since we really don’t have any gaurantee that other nice days will follow. We actually had a tornado warning yesterday. Spent 20 minutes in the basement before getting the all-clear. I am so thankful for the calm here in this moment and this sunny day.
Not a lot blooming around the yard this time of summer, but it won’t be long until the leaves are turning. A few random camera shots capture the feeling of this day though.
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