Tears stream down my face.
The ache so heavy.
Her laugh was like the twinkling of a million fairies.
A silver lining somewhere.
Poise and grace.
Coffee and tea.
A vacation cut short to return to play the organ at the funeral
well done my good and faithful servant,
resounding through out the heavens.
The whole of creation waits in anticipation for Jesus’ return.
It is not the dead that grieve.
It it those left behind that the grieving is for.
So my sweet friend.
I do not grieve for you.
You are free of pain.
You are home.
We will all grieve, for us.
For our aching hearts.
For your dear husband and beautiful, beautiful family.
For the immense loss here on this earth.
For all the missing.
So, I say again, in a whisper, I will see you soon dear one.
2 Peter 3:8
But do not forget this one thing, dear friends:
With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.