I don’t sit still. I really don’t pray well if I am sitting still. (Don’t brag to me if you can do it.) It has always been a richer prayer experience when I write my prayers in a journal, because my body is in motion. It causes me to be careful of my word choice, reverent but also relational with God. If I am writing him a letter, I share my heart with him standing on the belief that He cares about all of me. I know he does. Sometimes I am so restless with the problem at hand that it is most effective when I go for a prayer walk (without a baby filled stroller), and always with my dog. (I start my prayers after she poops.) I have to move to release my mind to do its best thinking/feeling/praying.
Tonight a friend was going to a funeral of someone significant in her family’s lives and she asked me to pray. I felt it was necessary to devote myself to remembering what happens when we go. I changed out of my skirt, wore sweats, took the leash and set out for the pavement. For a Christian servant the sweetness of seeing Jesus gives me so much envy. Is there such a thing as righteous envy? Probably not. But I desire to leap into the arms of Christ, look into his eyes, behold all of him, fall to my knees, look up and realize all the majesty of heaven is the next path I will follow. I am not kidding when I say I want that. When it happens for me there ought to be a big party on earth because I will be home, well, and perfect. Promise me everyone it will be a celebration! Please dance at my funeral.
Only God gets to pick our day to meet Him. The people I will leave behind, that’s the rub. Maybe we’d be asking to go every day if life here weren’t all we knew, or if we weren’t blessed with the pleasure and responsibilities of love on earth.
I have never lost anyone close to me. I’ve only been to a funeral when I was a child. I don’t know what it feels like as an adult to lose someone. The people who have experienced the loss are the best at comforting those going through the pain. But, I want to be a comfort to those who are left behind.
So, I walked and prayed. I asked to understand. I asked for comfort for those here. I praised Him for the freedom and glory the one who has gone now has in heaven. She’s with the Lord….and I’m feeling a little curious and pushing away the envy… accepting reality. To go is GOOD, to be left behind, not so much. This woman was such a servant of God that the godly shudder to think of her example. I can only wonder what she sees now. We cannot imagine the glory of God in his heavenly dwelling.
As I walked on in my prayer walk I emptied my mind and heart into the hands of God. I am a simple girl trying to understand a truth that is beyond my ability to know. It just makes me bow lower to God. When I was nearly home, I glanced up to the sky and saw a hazy overcast day transformed into a partly cloudy sky where the sun was setting through poofs of clouds that let streams of strong light fall upon the path in front of me. I stood still and gaped at the view…some call it God’s eyelashes.
I knew it was heavenly light showing me the path I am on now, and at the same time reminding me to appreciate the beauty of where I can go when I enter the everlasting. All I know is there was a fantastic sense of peace that overcame me. I took a photo and sent it in a text to my friend who had asked me to pray. God sheds his light onto our path from his everlasting throne. If I don’t know Jesus, I’ll never touch the source of that light. As I am relieved to know for sure I know Jesus, I feel the burden of all who need to see what He has done for us so we can step across the boundary into everlasting light and the presence of God.
This is going to change the purpose of the conversations I have tomorrow. It will.