“Think of something you treasure, and ponder why it means so much to you.” This was a bible study question in my workbook this week. I think the author was getting at the things most people think are valuable. But I didn’t think of my wedding ring, or our picture albums, or Daddy’s oil paintings on our walls.
.
I thought of a scrap of paper, and a pencil, and some empty aluminum cans. They were more valuable to me than anything else we own. Because they once belonged to you.
.
My introduction to life without you came with three little words, “He did it.” I’ll never forget the horror that engulfed me like a tidal wave and has kept me wave-swept ever since. “He did it” was all it took. I rushed out into our garage and beheld you on that cold cement floor. It was you, but it wasn’t, because your eyes were devoid of your soul. In them I saw what my days would become. Nothingness. Emptiness.
.
Later, when I sat in your room, I looked at all that was left. The scrap of paper you wrote your workouts on, the pencil you used to do it, the energy drink cans lined up neatly in your collection. This was all we had left. Everything in this room, and your empty shoes by the front door, and your coat hanging limply on the banister without you in it. The hollow in your pillow that would never hold your head again, and the extra long bed we bought for your long legs. What a future this tall, promising boy would have! Those dreams proved to be empty, too.
.
This is how a scrap of paper can mean more than gold and diamonds, this is how a snipped ringlet of hair can mean more than the home that keeps us.
.
If I am honest, seeing your things today doesn’t bring me joy, it brings a rush of fear. There is something about knowing even these things could be lost that makes it seem like I could lose you all over again. Does a mom ever get over that?
.
At the same time I know that one day even these things won’t matter a whit.
.
One day, the home that keeps us will also keep you. Our real home is to be the New Heaven and the New Earth and I’ll never stop waiting for that day. It’s the day I finally see you, and One who made you, ushering me on a wave of freedom, into the harbor of HOME.
.
Dear God, I can’t believe the terror of the day Tristan died can still reside in my breast. It’s kept at bay by so many things cluttering up my life, like living, and moving forward, But in an instant it can all rush back. Thank you for keeping me going, closer to the day it will all be over. Your saints have always been waiting, haven’t they? Since Genesis, they were waiting for their Messiah, waiting for the Promised Land, waiting for salvation, redemption and deliverance. And everybody up there is waiting for the day You return to earth. They are longing, and we are longing. I wish I could see Tristan’s eyes the way they are now, expectant and sparkling with Life. They reflect You, don’t they? I was so happy in my old life, not waiting for You, really. But now, I wait with all Your saints! Come quickly, Lord! We are longing for You! In Jesus most holy and precious name, amen.
