Raining in my Heart
Posted by Daddy on Feb 26, 2012 at 11:15 am
Hee Weeb!
There is not much I feel like saying today. I am so sad that you are not with us here any more.
Some people call today the anniversary of your death (if it’s not tomorrow, that is.) It’s certainly the anniversary of your accident. It’s definitely the anniversary of the worst day in the life of our family.
Some call it your angel day, but you’re not an angel. You are a Child of God living in His presence. That means today is the anniversary of your home-going. It’s Home Day, or Heaven Day, I guess.
Whatever this day is called, I am happy for you, and sad for us. It’s a roller coaster kind of day for me, and I don’t particularly care for roller coasters.
I am often sad about all of the things I will not get to do with you here on Earth, then I realize that we will be together here on the Earth one day, and then on the New Earth. Our time together is not over: It’s only paused. If you had merely moved to Seattle, I’d be sad. Instead, you are in a place that is hard for me to understand. You may well be much closer than Seattle, yet at times you seem so much further away.
Yet Heaven is where God is, and God is here with me. He’s also in Seattle, and He’s where you are, too. We are together in a way that I cannot understand. Sometimes maybe I feel it.
I continue to think about you every day.
Today we will have a picnic to celebrate your life, both with us and in Heaven. It is being planned by Aunt Tricia and her family, and we will have to hold it indoors, because it is raining. Mommy said that the weather matches her mood. I say it’s raining in my heart, but only because you like Buddy Holly so much. It would have been nice to have it under the monkey tree in the front yard.
It has dawned on me that Heaven has many more residents who were children when they died than those who were adults. So many are miscarried, are stillborn, starve, die of disease, are aborted, etc. While it’s a sad fact of life that children die, it is comforting to me to realize that so many die before they can reject God. I am convinced that you are in good human company there.
I’ll be there with you soon (relative to the grand expanse of eternity,) as will Mommy and your six siblings. I’m sure you are not pining away waiting for us, but parts of us are pining away waiting to be there. It’s a good thing to long for being with God, trinity to trinity. Until then, I’ll try to bring as many along as I can. I love you.