You looked so happy.
A part of me dreams that you both would share a sweet dance on Saturday at your namesake's wedding. I think you would like who he is, his heart towards others and his fight to trust the Lord in uncertain times. It is surely a blessing to be his sister. I think you would like Crista and her heart too.
A part of me wants that, part of me loves that you joined the Saints of Old, resting and worshiping, without a veil of flesh, free to sin no more. I feel the weight of that part of days like Jake's wedding and sometimes mundane days. Sometimes, when I watch my daughter sleep or hear my husband sing her hymns, my mind drifts to wondering what hymns you would have sung her, what you would have thought of her sweet face. I feel the weight, but that weight comes with joy attached.
Your life (and death) have consistently taken my far-too-low, preoccupied gaze and raised it...
...Raised it to the cross.
...Raised it to sin's costly price.
...Raised it to the face of your King.
...Raised it to things angels long to look at.
...Raised it to the place you dwell with your King.
...Raised it to the land in which my possession's lie.
As a person who defaults to enjoying mere contentment in this world, my eyes need such raising. They need to know that this world is broken; it's not the way it should be. They need to know that Christ died to make all the sin, brokenness, and sorrow vanish amid his grace. They need to know that Christ died for my sin; my pride, my self-sufficiency, my looking to other idols; MY sin. They need to know the risen, sinless King lives; he sits (mission complete!) at the right hand of the Father.
Your life still speaks volumes. It tells me that King is trustworthy, in my life and death. I'm pretty sure you would be more than ok with your life still pointing me to your King.
...But Jack, if you get a chance celebrate with us on Saturday, feel free to join us in dance!
No comments:
Post a Comment