Hard Goodbyes - Our Hearts' Longing for Heaven

Writing is good for my heart. It seems to be like exercise - it's hard to make time for it, but I am happier when I do. So here I am. It also seems to be that the busier I am, the more I have need for it. It's been a few years since I've written on this blog, but the Lord has thrown me into a new season, and many thoughts and emotions whirl around in my heart and mind like a bluster of snow. Beautiful. Fierce. Tangible. Disorienting. 

About five months ago, we welcomed our sixth baby into the world and just three weeks later, sent our oldest child off to college, a transition that knocked my heart right over several times, from which I would stand back up again, but with somewhat wobbly legs. 

The day I watched Jason drive our son off, I was overcome with grief. Of course I am excited for him, of course I am so very proud of him, of course this was a joyful day as he started this new adventure. But my human heart didn't want anything to change, wanted to freeze time, feared for the future, could not understand how we would continue to be in relationship, grieved the loss of his childhood, felt like this was the end of a beautiful eighteen years that I didn't want to be over. 

I would gaze down at our glorious infant, washed over by simultaneous gratitude and grief. Our son once slept in my arms. What an honor it has been to walk with him and guide him, as challenging as it may be at times. He has taught me more than I could have ever imagined, paved the way for my heart to love our other children, humbled me a thousand times until I reached out again and again for grasped grace from God. 

Each of our children is a part of my heart. When they leave, it feels like a part of me is missing. The cells of our children are literally transferred into our own bodies during pregnancy and can effect a mother's body for decades. The loss is real and significant. Our hearts are resilient of course, but it takes time for my heart to rearrange itself and it is certainly a messy process.

As I anticipated this change, I found myself annoyed and frustrated with God. Why would He give me such a fierce love for our children only to have to let them go? Why did a natural and good part of life feel so wrong and so painful? It felt as though the gift and depth of my love was being used against me, causing despair. 

What was the point of it all? Why give my life to creating a beautiful childhood for my children that would ultimately be mostly forgotten and was filled with so many of my mistakes? Why does this hurt so much? All of these questions berated me as I my body wracked with sobs in the days following our son's departure. 

After much ugly crying, reflecting, and fervent prayers of Help me! Help me trust You more! Give me faith!, a shard of truth glimmered in the storm. 

This is so painful because our hearts were not meant to say goodbye. While I grappled with such heavy sentiments, my fears and anxieties all focused on worldly concerns and neglected the truth of who we are, forgetting the promises of our King. 

Our hearts were made for heaven where we will be united in love forever and ever and never have to say goodbye. Life is full of loss, full of separations, but it is not the end of the story. In heaven, we will have the ultimate reunion. The pain in our hearts as we say goodbyes only points to our hearts' longing for our true home in heaven. 

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. Revelation 21: 4

But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city. Hebrews 11: 16

And the ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. Isaiah 35: 10

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

The clarity of this truth dulled the edge of suffering until it mostly faded. Eventually, my fears were replaced by hope and faith. All of my hope is in Jesus, that one day we will all be united in Him in heaven together. 

Inspired by this confidence, my knees don't wobble so much. I am convicted again of why I do what I do, why a beautiful childhood matters, why it is indeed of the utmost importance to create memories and foundations of truth, goodness, and beauty, and why doing so the most important work I do as it will one day bear eternal fruit. 

Until then, may God give me the grace to handle the seasons of my life. And may God guide and bless these beautiful children!