The other day I needed to get something in the room where we have Dominic’s things stored-not the boxed-up-not-dealing-with-them-now things-but the personal things that bear his scent, his mark, his personality.
And the warm spring air had concentrated the odor that is him just behind the doorway. It caught me by surprise-that I could still smell him, still feel his presence, still be so certain that he had just passed by this very spot.
My mama heart cried, “More time!”
Just one more minute,
one more hug,
one more “I love you”,
one more breath.
But it would never be enough.
One more would only feed my longing for the next minute.
There is no earthly cure for this heart sickness. No words to make it better. No medicine strong enough to numb the pain of missing him.
So I wait.
I wait for my heart to heal enough so that I can focus on something other than healing.
I wait for passion to return to my soul.
I wait for a day-just one day-when joyful moments outweigh sorrowful ones.
I wait for the promised beauty from ashes.
I wait for faith to be made sight.
And while I wait, I turn my heart and mind and strength toward the One Who is Faithful and True.
Nothing that has cursed mankind shall exist any longer; the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be within the city. His servants shall worship him; they shall see his face, and his name will be upon their foreheads. Night shall be no more; they have no more need for either lamplight or sunlight, for the Lord God will shed his light upon them and they shall reign as kings for timeless ages.
Then the angel said to me, “These words are true and to be trusted, for the Lord God, who inspired the prophets, has sent his angel to show his servants what must shortly happen.”
“See, I come quickly! Happy is the man who pays heed to the words of the prophecy in this book.”
Revelation 22:3-7 PHILLLIPS