2 sweet 2 b 4gotten

I don't know why in the world that jumped into my head, but I was thinking about all the sweets I've been eating in the last week. In middle school we used to write this like a math problem. 2+2=4

Anyway, the wedding was yesterday and today I feel kind of shell shocked and exhausted. I wasn't expecting to feel so worn out today. Well, that's not entirely true - I knew I'd feel tired and worn out, but maybe I wasn't expecting to feel so down. so raw and emotional.

Yesterday was one of the most joyous days in my Boston community, but in two other places people I care about were hurting and celebrating the homecoming of a father and a newborn child. There were two funerals yesterday that were on my mind... one for my cousin's baby boy, Jonathan, and one for my new friend, Megan's dad. I think it just reminds me how fragile and fleeting life is. We are told not to store up our treasures here on earth and yet we work our tails off doing so anyway.

Lately I'm not sure I can figure myself out. Maybe I'm not supposed to, but I always like to give it a try. Am I sad or content? Am I friendly or distant? Am I focused or distracted? I'm all these things and some days I feel nuts.

Thanksgiving is less than two weeks away. I've decided to celebrate with friends, but I'm still uncertain what the day will actually be like... knowing me it won't be until a week later that I realize how sad I am not to be with my Mom and family... although typing that made me cry, so maybe I'm wrong. Two days after Turkey Day is my Mom's birthday - she would have been 57 this year. Moms are supposed to live longer than that. Emily's (the bride) Mom had her Mom here for the wedding... she introduced herself as Nana... she must have been in her 90s. Watching Cindy assist her Mom reminded me of mine. My Mom's body was weaker than most 50-somethings because the chemo had done so much damage over the years, so she wasn't as active and could typically use an extra hand or two. She was stubborn about accepting help - always so independent- she couldn't accept that rearranging the entire living room alone would mean she wouldn't be able to walk the next day. Come to think of it... I'm this way too. I have a weak back and every time I move heavy objects I regret it later, but it doesn't stop me. I love remembering and seeing the ways I'm like my Mom. If you had told me that I would feel that way one day I would have told you that you were insane. But there is something comforting in seeing her in myself- it's like evidence that she was really here. Her imprint is in all of us and that's a reminder that she lived and isn't a distant memory or imaginary friend.

Whenever I have these moments where the sorrow bleeds through I am reminded of those beautiful children in South Africa. So many of them are living without families and I had the luxury of becoming an adult under the care of mine.

Man, I just miss my Mom. I can't believe that in three months we'll observe the second anniversary of her death. Two years seems like such a long time and yet I feel like I lost her yesterday. There's this sharp pain at the base of my throat that can't be released without tears. It just really sucks to grieve. Some days there's little relief or escape. The river of sorrow runs so deep and so wide it can feel like I'm drowning until I remember the sorrow Jesus experienced on the Cross.

I sit day after day asking "Why me, Lord?" and "How could this be true?" All the while forgetting that the One who created me and loves me beyond my comprehension knows far better than I which path is best. Years ago Kristen told me that we, as humans, constantly struggle with believing and understanding that God knows us far better than we know ourselves. Oh how this is true for me! I waste countless hours of my life pushing back and asking these questions that reveal my lack of faith and my hard-headed insistence that I know me better- I know what would be best for me. I could do it better. It is a shameful admission, but a great temptation.

If God knows me better than I, then that means that my Mom returning to Him is perfect in its timing and season. This means that my sorrow and heartache for her and so many other things I believe I'm missing in my life are perfect, too. That is really hard to confront and believe. This pain, this missing, is God ordained and He has made every effort to comfort and sustain me in the midst of it. Why can't I just be released from it, then? Why must it drag on? I want to be okay - whatever that means. I want to be free from suffering. This is the path that leads my eyes toward Heaven.

I wonder sometimes if people really think about Heaven like I do. What must it be like to live completely free of pain and suffering? To be face-to-face with the One who gave His life for me? In this season of life I try to imagine the living without sorrow. I can not imagine it. It completely flies in the face of every experience I have had on earth that has shaped who I am today. Living free of the devastation of cancer - living free of the allure of sin - living free of the burden of repentance - living free of broken relationships - living free of addictions - living free of all things that afflict us... what in the world will that be like?! It makes me excited about Heaven. I am in awe that the Creator would have such a plan... could He not have just made us to live on earth and when we're done we're done, as many might believe is the case? But he didn't... he intends for us to be joined with him beyond pearly gates - imagine!- and live free and whole for eternity!

In the classroom we do a demonstration to give the kids a visual of how long it is to wait for sex. We get a roll of toilet paper and we start with the first square calling it birth. We then unroll and count out the squares stopping occasionally to state the age at that square and a possible stage of life (i.e. 5 years - kindergarten, 11 years - middle school, etc). We ask the kids when people typically get married and they almost always say around 25 years old. When we get to the square for the age they are currently we have a student stand and hold that piece and continue to roll out to the 25th square, having another student stand and hold that piece. Then we roll out to the 30s, 40s, 50s and so on until we run out of room. Once we've rolled out we look back at the period of time in between the student standing at 14 (we do this with 8th graders) and the student standing at 25. It looks like a very small period of time in the grand scheme of their entire lives. It seems a lot easier to wait for sex when you look at it like a blip of time on the timeline.

In the same way I think about waiting for Heaven. If I were to roll out enough toilet paper to circle a football field three times- the square from birth to 50, 70, 90 years old would look like such a small period of time to wait for Jesus to take me Home. The wait feels long because of all the life we live in those years, but ultimately this life on earth is a small piece of our eternal life.

I wait on the Lord to provide things in His time. I can wait on God to free me eternally from this broken world... and I can live to the fullest while I wait. It doesn't mean it is easy or that God promised it would be, but it is a knowing that it won't always be like this and that before we know it we will be, once again, in the presence of the Most High. Oh how appreciative I am that part of this story involves Heaven ... that God created eternal rest for us after this journey.