Kiss Your Miracle

motherhood after infertility

Eternity May 3, 2010

Filed under: Faith,Family — Linnea @ 8:38 pm

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about death. My dad’s death, Jill’s death, and even my own. I listened to a podcast last week by Francis Chan and can’t get it out of my head. His topic was Revelation 4, which describes the throne of God in heaven. Chan’s main point was that most of what we obsess over on earth will mean nothing to us on that day. All any of us will want in that moment is to hear Jesus speak the words “well done” over our lives.

I wonder about my dad and Jill, and what it was like for them when they opened their eyes and found themselves staring at the actual throne of God across the crystal sea. Were they thrilled? Relieved? Terrified? I have no idea and that makes me want to cry. I believe heaven will be wonderful, but none of it is familiar, so in that sense it’s intimidating. I don’t like that I can’t picture exactly what my dad is doing right now.

Life has a heaviness to it these days. Once the kids are asleep, my thoughts immediately go to my dad, my family, Jill, and her family. I’ve never felt grief like this and I wonder how long it will take for things to feel normal again or if they ever will. But the Bible says that the Lord is close to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18), and I know God is with me in the sadness.

He keeps blessing me, too. This past weekend was nice in so many small ways. The sunset on Friday was amazing. Adam and I had no plans at all and spent loads of time playing with the kids on the living room floor, watching Cubs games and the Kentucky Derby. On Saturday we got a new baby pool for Sky and she liked it so much we couldn’t get her out of it. Best of all, Micah laughed for the first time this weekend.

Little physical blessings don’t erase grief. But each one reminds me that God is good and loving and He has filled my life with wonderful things I didn’t earn and don’t deserve.

“Our days on earth are like grass; like wildflowers, we bloom and die. The wind blows, and we are gone – as though we had never been here. But the love of the Lord remains forever with those who fear Him.” – Psalm 103:15-17a


8 Responses to “Eternity”

  1. Kelly Vos Says:

    Ohh Linnea, what a season you have been through! Lots of love your way, if I lived by you I would give you a big hug!

  2. Karin Says:

    You have been through a lot , so continue to appreciate the small things as you actually are being blessed with and that you already are noticing.
    Send us some warm weather – it’s snowing in Oslo today!!!! Brrrrr!!

  3. Mom Says:

    Linni, it warms me to know you and I were both thinking and writing about God’s throne today… from Revelation 4. I guess we met in that throne room.

    Love you,

  4. GGpatzian Says:

    Linni, what a beautiful photo…and I can’t help but feel that those incredible sunsets you and Adam see at your place…are just God’s reminders that He sees you, hears you and knows your pain…but look up and see what He has done for your good pleasure. Your mom has a new supply of rocks, you have the sunsets…and precious times with those babies. Wish I could spend more time with them…just hasn’t been feasible this week. I can hardly wait to hear Micah laugh!!
    You have been through some major trauma these past months and your grief will subside …in due time. You are so precious to me…and I KNOW the JOY of the Lord will be restored in you!!
    Love you, GG

  5. Nelson Says:

    i talked with one of our speakers here about grief and what i have been feeling and his response was,
    “that’s about the most sane thing you could be feeling.” i took comfort in that because i tend to try not to feel sad about Papa. i think it’s normal…not that having knowledge about it makes it easier. i love you.

  6. TLC Says:

    How comforting of your heavenly Father to give you laughter through your children, comforting arms from your husband and sunsets to enjoy.
    Sending all of you big hugs!

  7. Heather Says:

    Thanks you once again Linni for your honesty in dealing with life. I am not sure that “normal” ever returns – but a new “normal” develops in time that includes some grief and sadness in remembrance of what has been lost and those no longer with us. I read a really great book on grief after my dad died – I wish I could remember the name. There is a picture of grief that has always stuck with me from that book – the author described grief and the grief experience like setting sail on a ship from the shore. We look behind us at the shore and that is what we long for – life before the event that caused this grief ship to set sail. But the reality is that we can’t return to that shore we’ve left. So, we set sail and we don’t know what the shore we are headed for looks like and if we even want to be there. This analogy helped me quite a bit – especially as I dealt with just wanting things to be the way they were. It allowed me to remember and accept that I was on a journey even though I didn’t know where that was leading me – but it let me be nicer to myself in the midst of it and to not have the expectation that where I ended up would look and feel exactly like life before my dad’s death. I’m thankful for all the ways God is reminding you of His presence and the little joys that He brings into your life each day. I’m also so thankful that He never leaves us alone. I will be praying for the Comforter to surround you with His love.

  8. Bethany Scott Says:

    Hey Linnea,
    I know you have also faced grief over your dad which I haven’t faced, but I have thought about Jill like this a lot and continue missing her. Now that I’m 33 and have a young child like you, and like Jill, I wonder how much time I will have with her. I wonder how her family is doing. I walked in Relay for Life for the American Cancer Society on Saturday, and bought a luminaria in memory of Jill. I wondered if this would mean anything to her, knowing that she wasn’t defined by having cancer, but thinking it was a good cause to give money to anyway. Though I can’t know, my thought is that Jill would have been ready and excited to meet Jesus, and I feel sure she heard “Well done, good and faithful servant.” I have thought, “Why Jill? why at age 33?” and along with that is “Why her and not me?” I just know that God has different plans for us all, and she did so much in her short life and He also used her example and testimony through facing cancer to touch so many of us. Maybe that was His purpose for her, or maybe that was Him bringing good out of something terrible.