Written by Karla Herbert
I was recently at a funeral for a precious little 2 year old boy. Words cannot describe the pain and joy that were intermingled into his service. But they were both present as tears, smiles, sobs, and laughter were shared among the family and friends there.
One of the pastors shared a story of how this sweet little man's Mama was filled with utter excitement as she carried him, anticipating his birth, loving him before she'd seen him.
He compared that moment in her life to the anticipation we each carry inside of us.
The anticipation of the unseen.
The anticipation of Heaven, of looking at Jesus face to face, of seeing our loved ones who are already there waiting for us to make it home.
There was something about what he said that made it possible for me to wrap my head around the devastating loss for a brief moment. I don't understand why He chose to take this sweet boy with the never-ending grin back home to Him. I don't understand why a big, amazing miracle didn't take place.
But I do understand what the anticipation of the unseen feels like.
It's enough to take the agony away for a brief moment, to be replaced by a feeling of hope.
Hope.
The pastor's words were healing words to my heart in the wake of the miscarriage I had recently. I never saw my baby. Never felt her breath on my neck. Never felt her tiny fingers wrap around mine. But I know what the expectant hope of seeing her again feels like. I carry it with me all the time.
My prayer for you is that in the midst of heartache, loss, feelings of insecurity, or whatever is happening in your life that is causing you to turn your eyes toward Heaven and sigh, that you'll feel expectancy in anticipating the unseen.
"I go to prepare a place for you. And if I shall go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to Myself; that where I am, you also may be." John 14:2,3
I was recently at a funeral for a precious little 2 year old boy. Words cannot describe the pain and joy that were intermingled into his service. But they were both present as tears, smiles, sobs, and laughter were shared among the family and friends there.
One of the pastors shared a story of how this sweet little man's Mama was filled with utter excitement as she carried him, anticipating his birth, loving him before she'd seen him.
He compared that moment in her life to the anticipation we each carry inside of us.
The anticipation of the unseen.
The anticipation of Heaven, of looking at Jesus face to face, of seeing our loved ones who are already there waiting for us to make it home.
There was something about what he said that made it possible for me to wrap my head around the devastating loss for a brief moment. I don't understand why He chose to take this sweet boy with the never-ending grin back home to Him. I don't understand why a big, amazing miracle didn't take place.
But I do understand what the anticipation of the unseen feels like.
It's enough to take the agony away for a brief moment, to be replaced by a feeling of hope.
Hope.
The pastor's words were healing words to my heart in the wake of the miscarriage I had recently. I never saw my baby. Never felt her breath on my neck. Never felt her tiny fingers wrap around mine. But I know what the expectant hope of seeing her again feels like. I carry it with me all the time.
My prayer for you is that in the midst of heartache, loss, feelings of insecurity, or whatever is happening in your life that is causing you to turn your eyes toward Heaven and sigh, that you'll feel expectancy in anticipating the unseen.
"I go to prepare a place for you. And if I shall go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to Myself; that where I am, you also may be." John 14:2,3
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