My dearest daughter,
I have never written to you before and I realize that only if Jesus deems it wise, will He reveal to you the contents of this letter. I probably need to write it more than you need to read it. The truths I have learned, you learned long ago. The perspective on earth is so distorted. It is focused on a time and on places, belongings, events, possessions, and achievements that are sooo temporary. The brevity of life here as I work, play, relate, and become, is recognized more vividly the older I get. I know the expression, “when I lost you,” probably sounds strange to you because the home you have known all these years creates such a sense of belonging for you, and there would be no thought or longing on your part to find a home anywhere other than where you are. In my temporal world though, your presence was no longer here, and it was as if that presence I had so much longed for, had slipped from my hands and left my arms empty of the infant I literally ached to caress and nurture. My heart never “lost” you though, and still, these many years later, there is a tender place that belongs to only you. Today, had you stayed here, you would already be a mom yourself, and you would be immersed in the busyness of your home, your community, and prayerfully, your church. All good things, but they cannot compare to the good you have embraced within the reality of something I can still only hope for, although I recognize the certainty of that hope.
And with whatever “good” this place that has been so contaminated by sin can still offer, you would have also known tears of sorrow and the heartache of disappointment. You may have also known the complexities of spiritual and emotional struggles, the failures of relationships, the inadequacies of personal striving, the void left by pursuit and attainment. And yet, you have known none of these. Instead you know an aliveness and a completion, a satisfaction and a saturation, that simply isn’t even possible within the earthly realm. I long for a sense of the reality of God’s presence and the joy and exuberance of worship and communion with Him and with His Son, that far exceeds human possibility within a still mortal body. All this belongs to you, and so much more!
I would never call you back, and yet, because my heart never “lost” you, you give to me over and over again. As I imagine the reunions that must occur in Heaven and the excitement of welcoming others who come, my heart becomes eager to know the same reality that you know. But as I stay in the place God has for me now, that tender place in my heart is tender too towards the hurts and disappointments of others. My heart has been enlarged and my capacity to give has been stretched by grace. I am far from perfect, but some day I will share in the perfection you already have shared in. And as I wait, I pray that the heavenly Father you have known so intimately all these years, will be more and more at home in my heart, that I would be no stranger to His presence when I am blessed to share it with you, my daughter.
Much love,
Mom 2 Corinthians 5:1-8
