I’ve been “away” for so long. Not myself.

Grief can do that.

But today is a new day. A day of hope. A day not to dwell on loss but on eternal life that Jesus promised.

It’s been three years since my mom ran into her Savior’s arms and experienced more joy than any of us can imagine. She’s no longer missing her own mom. She’s no longer homesick or discouraged. Sadness is like dust she’s brushed from her shoulder, shaken from her clothes. The word “cancer” is nothing more than a shrug, a thing of the past, a powerless mumbling.

But for me, grief has stretched across time and space, my soul stretching with it. Soon, the band will break. The stretching and pulling will cease. The love will go on, of course, as love never dies. But soon the grave clothes will fall from my weary soul, memories will bring more joy than pain, and I’ll return to live the life God has for me.

To run the race.

To aim for heaven.

To boldly pursue God’s purpose for my life.

No more half-steps. No more crippling bouts of pain and heartache. No more probate or worldly stuff that prolongs the beginning of “letting go” only to extend grief further.

It’s time to focus on the joy of living.

To be on fire for God.

To realize this is all temporary, and one day the greatest family reunion is going to take place. What stories we’ll hear…and share!! What faces we’ll see, and what laughter we’ll experience. Oh, to see the joy in our Father’s eyes as He gathers His children together.

In the meantime, joy. Here and now.

The joy of heaven and the joy of eternal life trickling, POURING into my life, into this world…all because of You, Jesus.

Thank You, precious Savior.

I can hear the laughter already.

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