(originally written April 11, 2011)

I’ve been trying to explain something to Isaac this week.  He refuses to believe me.  We have a repeating conversation, but no matter what I do, he will not be distracted from his core belief.  Isaac is unable to grasp this very important concept : It is not Christmas at Nanny’s all year long.

For some reason over the past week, Isaac was a bit homesick for my mom and dad’s place in Grand Rapids.  He’d say to me, “Can’t we just take a ride to Gran Rabbits (because that’s what my kids call it…) and go sledding at Nanny’s house?”  or “Mommy, at Nanny’s house there is always chocolate cake!”  or “Mommy, but if we go to Papa’s house he will bowl on the wii and beat Nanny and I will get presents and…”  it seems to go on and on…

He knows a place.  and in his heart it doesn’t change.  If only it really were always Christmas at Nanny’s.  (although, I’m sure my mom and dad are relieved that there is not snow for sledding, now in April…)

Well, I’ve been a bit homesick for a place too this week.  Current events in our city have drawn me to think about it a bit more and long to be there, with loved ones and friends who are already there,  in that place where things are always as they should be.  It’s free of death and disease.  No dying. No tears. No sadness.  Only beauty, in the light of our Savior’s love.

I haven’t actually been there, but I know about it…God’s word promises He has prepared it for all those who believe in Him.  In fact, we can know that far above all earthly things, one thing is sure: Heaven.

¹ “Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me. ² In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. ³ And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also. (from John 14)

and from Hebrews 11…

¹⁴ For those who say such things declare plainly that they seek a homeland. ¹⁵ And truly if they had called to mind that country from which they had come out, they would have had opportunity to return. ¹⁶ But now they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them.

and the best of all (that’s just my opinion of course) from Revelation 21:

3 And I heard a loud voice from heaven saying, “Behold, the tabernacle of Godis with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people. God Himself will be with them and be their God. ⁴ And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.”

What amazing promises from God’s Word.  They are compelling, life giving and full of a robust hope. There is more…  far more… and it will always be so in Heaven.

So, I ask you Heavenly Father, Can’t we just head on up to your place now?  I hear its lovely all year round…  I have sweet memories all tied up in dear ones who are already there.  And even though I haven’t been there yet, it seems familiar…  it seems like home.

I’ve got all the time in the world this morning to sit and think.  I’m right here next to sweet boy, Isaac, who is sick with his second round of a tummy bug…  And while I pause for a moment by my favorite Christmas decoration, I have plenty to consider, from just a few days ago…

* * * * * * * *

I tried not to let my jaw drop wide open.  Michael and I stared at our friend in disbelief.  “She’s not coming back.  She’s gone,” he said about his wife of 17 years, the mother of his three children.  My heart jumped up, into my throat, making it difficult to speak, but I offered the best heart-felt words I could muster.

How does this happen?  How does love and commitment get up and walk out the front door and a wife and mother follow?  leaving behind the very ones she gave birth to, and the man she made a vow with saying, “forever”?  I don’t understand.  And I can’t fix it.  And I can’t get my heart to come down out of my throat.

* * * * * * *

Sometimes the beauty of the season can lift my spirits. But, today its not the tree, or my candy cane garland,

or my new favorite ornament,

or my special snowman lantern that lift my spirits – although they are all special to me and are lovely.

* * * * * * * * * *

Every time I think of that moment with our friend, and the many many other stories that make up the lives of the loved ones around us, I think and weep and pray and still I can’t make sense of any of it.  There is so much darkness.  so much grief and loss. so much sickness. And there is no answer.  but one.   There’s only One who can make all of this mess right.   And that is what brings a flicker of true hope, mid all of the glimmering lights.

Thousands of years ago He came, born in a cattle stall, bringing with Him the promise of salvation.  And now?  Now we wait for Him to return with the promise of the redemption of all things, making all things new.    He is our only hope, this Jesus.  and so we wait.  I wait, with my heart half-lodged in my throat – partly aching, but partly full of belief and hope again.

More than ever the simple words of this song, seem to be a plea from the depths of my spirit.  Come soon, Jesus.  You are the only one who can bring healing for this world.

Father enthroned on high,
Holy, holy
Ancient, eternal Light,
Hear our prayer.

Lord, save us from the dark
Of our striving,
Faithless and troubled hearts
Weighed down.

Come, oh Redeemer, come,
Grant us mercy.
Come, oh Redeemer, come,
Grant us peace.

Years and years had passed.  Prophetic words had been spoken, but none had come true.  Not yet.

The people of Israel had been waiting.  Waiting for the Messiah.  But all that had happened was nothing.  Days.  weeks.  months.  years.  and still – what did they have to show for it?  Nada.

They sang songs, and prayed prayers, asking the God of the Universe to come and be the Emmanuel He had promised He would be.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

I’ve been trying to write these words for a few days now.  Its Advent after all. I should be writing about peace and hope and joy – and I’ve had nothing to say.  But, I’ve been waiting.  Praying.  Asking for Him to come, in some form or another, and bring some hope with Him.  a bit of tangible hope.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

On that night that we’ve all heard about, when the angels sang and the shepherds ran and Mary labored hard, there was reward for all of the waiting.  It was unexpected, but there He was.  A newborn babe, fresh from the womb, prepared to bring hope to the world.

And for those who believed, it was hope that overflowed the heart.  It was pure Joy that required shouting and singing but could not be explained.

*   *   *   *   *   *  *

It came shockingly, like bolt of lightening from a clear blue sky.  Few words via text, but none that needed explaining.  “tests show no new growth.  tumor shrinking.”  Its a brief reprieve for a dear friend,  but for my waiting heart it is a flood of hope.  tangible evidence.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

Emmanuel.  Born to set His people free.  then and now.  from sin.  from disease and sickness.  from depression.  Freedom to experience the fullest life in Him.

*  *  *   *   *   *  *

Thank you Heavenly Father for this healthy dose of hope you have given.  I am free to live fully alive in You. Thank you for reminding me.  amen.

November 28, 2001.  8:40 pm.  That’s the day and time when my life was forever changed dramatically, and for the good, I might add.

At 26, with no other children to call my own, I had no idea what was in store.   None whatsoever.  I guess no woman can truly know what childbirth or having a child of their own is like until it happens for the first time.

Excitement with a twist of relief, mixed with unbelievable fear was the elixir pumping through my veins on that day when they placed her in my arms for the first time.  The only answer bringing calm to the deep places of my heart was the knowledge that my day to day experiences would be laced with God’s never-ending mercy.

Fast forward 11 years.  I can hardly believe that I am the mother of an eleven year old.  It seems miraculous and  impossible to comprehend all at the same time.  The gift that Emily has been to Michael and I is far beyond what I ever imagined.  Our love for her is overwhelming.

From her I have learned many life lessons, like (1) never judge a book by its cover, (2) in every circumstance be yourself, and (3) if a baby hasn’t pooped in a few days, they will as soon as you put them in the bathtub.   But one of the most valuable is this:  For every mistake there is forgiveness.

My daughter is one of the most loving people I know, able to let go of offenses in the blink of an eye.  When I make mistakes, as all moms do, her heart is forgiving.  And believe me, I’ve had to receive her forgiveness many times over. (and that was just today)  I pray that I can be more like her: quick to forgive, open handed, soft hearted, prepared to understand.

She is not a little girl anymore, she is a young woman.  A lovely, witty, intelligent, kind, Christ-like young woman.  And I couldn’t be more proud to be her mama.

I love you Emily Kameryn.    Happy 11th Birthday!