Thursday, May 31, 2012

Warning Please

Dear Children,

In the future, if you would like to have deep theologically sound conversations regarding, death, life, salvation, heavenly bodies, who will be in heaven and who will not, I would like a warning.  I'd prefer to be sitting and not in the middle of putting away groceries.  However, in the midst of my disaster of a kitchen I will still sit down, pull you in my lap and calm your fears.  

I wish I could promise you that you won't die today, your siblings, loved ones and I won't either.  But I don't make promises cavalierly.  I know and have learned first hand that those kind of promises don't always come true.  Sometimes children precede parents and death and sometimes parents die before their children are grown or shortly after they have left the nest.  

What I can tell you is this:  most likely you and I will both die a long time from now and you don't need to worry about it today.  Most likely you will be long grown before you bury me.  Most likely I will meet whatever children you have and be there to watch you grow and change and become adults, responsible ones or not.  

And whether those things happen or don't, I can tell you this:  I will meet you there.  Whether you or I get there first.  I will be there.  And if God allows me to know who you are when we are there, I will be standing at the gates waiting for you.  Perhaps all of you theologians out there would like to remind me that I may be so enraptured with Christ that I may not notice that my children have entered heaven.  While I love Jesus, I have a hard time believing that, as do most mothers out there.

I have some very dear people already there that I can't wait to see again.  Jesus, yes, I want to meet him, I want to be there and I want to worship.  And I know I will have forever and ever to do that. 

I believe very strongly that the babies I have lost, those who did not draw a breath here on this earth, I will be seeing all three of them.  I will be rejoicing that they are there to meet me.  I, not so patiently, wait for that day.  And my sister, Blair.  I can NOT wait to see her again.  To rejoin with the sister I lost 23 years ago, that will be sweet, all the bitter erased from it.  

My Grandpa, flawed as he was here on this earth, he was the one who taught me what a man could be.  He was the one who showed my young self how a man could love a woman.  How to be strong, silent when needed and speak words when they needed to be spoken.  The one who fearlessly evangelized perfect strangers and invited Mormons and any one else who disagreed with him theologically into his house to have hours of discussion, prayer and debate.   I remember how passionately he spoke of Christ.  His pride in his family, his children and their lives was so genuine.  He is the man I hold up in my mind as one who loved fiercely.  I remember how secure my Grandma seemed in his love.  However meek she was in some areas, it was so hard to see that security flee after he passed.  If I were ever loved that way, wow, that would be amazing.  

My theology may be off.  I'm not too worried about it.  Do we recognize each other in heaven?  I'm not totally sure.  Today what Rowan and Harvey needed to hear was that they can live forever, not in this body, but they don't ever have to worry about disappearing.  Jesus is the path to that life.  The only one.  They know the path and to the best of their 5 and 6 year old abilities they are following it.  I am intimately acquainted with the fact that Harvey is already a month older than Blair ever lived to be.  Therefore, I will not promise them a long earthly life.  But I will promise them that I will follow the one that secures my ability to meet them in the afterlife.  

I love you, kiddos.  See you there.  Hopefully a long time from now.  


  1. I can't wait to meet Blair up there. Love you, sissah. Keep on writing and making me cry.

    1. Forgot to send you a warning text, didn't realize you were reading. I sent one to mom telling her she'd cry when she read this one. Love you too

  2. Yep, I cried. Bittersweet, lovely tears of joyful memories and wondrous expectations for the future.

    1. Thankful for the future to come, and that such a future exists for all who welcome Him.


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