“Don’t forget to say ‘Hi to God,'” my son reminded her.
Exchanges like these have been happening since my kids could talk. They remember Heaven, they say and I believe them.
My son said “God has a car that fits everyone. He showed us the tall mountains, and they are bigger than you would ever imagine.”
“What color is God’s car?”
“It’s all the colors. Heaven is full of color.”
“In Heaven Daddy has hair. When I see him there, he looks happy and like the mailman Daddy.” In other words, Scott is not in pain, he is forever young and healthy.
Before Ana was born, a friend had a vision that she was lying in Jesus’ hands. She described my baby girl, and that description looked exactly like my daughter when she was born 5 months later. A few years ago, Ana, out of the blue asked, “Do you remember when I was a baby and Jesus held me in his hands?”
Faith like a child. More and more I need to remember to have faith like MY children.
Their faith is perfect, carefree and justified. They lost their dad, yet they are happy he is in Heaven. They are sad and they miss him, yet they feel his presence on Earth. They are my heroes, reminding me the lessons I don’t always remember through sadness.
I admit, at times, on this journey, I have felt alone. Sad. Angry, and dare I say bitter? I wondered, “Where are you? Why am I walking through this sand alone? I thought you carried me?”
Then, my phone will ding, and a verse appears, or dinner shows up, or a friend sends a note just to check in. When I am alone, or feeling like a mess, I get the message, “You are not alone. I am with you.”
It’s true. I am not alone. I have my faithful kids, whom I admire. My family. My friends. and so many others I have yet to meet.
I am not alone, God is here, carrying me through the sand, helping me face each day, without my love, my heart, my husband.