I showed a new friend a picture of my sister, Alyse. All the grief came back. Not in a big display, at least not in my terms, but it was real.
She’s here. She’s not here. Christian hope is real. It also increases pain.
Hope is the impetus for Heaven. It’s that virtue that pulls us out of the muck and the mire to go toward God. My Redeemer lives, and so does Alyse, but I am still here.
You have to live right there. If you ignore death or Heaven, you have pretty close to nothing.
Let the tears come, if they need to, because it’s not about the tears. We would both agree that Heaven is better than this place. We have both had our fill of this place and its suffering.
Anybody could say, “How I long for just one more conversation!” But aren’t we longing for the little taste of Heaven that is every eternal soul? Hasn’t God left his mark and his voice here upon us?
The God of the living, not of the dead.
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