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© Jeanne E Webster
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What a wonderful visit we had. I had driven down to Florida from Minnesota to see my mother, and we spent the entire week connecting again with old black-and-white family photos, reminiscing over childhoods, upbringings, relatives long gone and what we could scramble up for the supper table.
We were at ease; our once huffed up spirits now lay flat as a well-made bed sheet. Gone was the stress, old wounds had healed and all was well. The white beaches of Pensacola welcomed our presence with lazy toe digging, lollygagging hours of sharing opportunities.
Time beckons and duty calls. Homeward bound, I headed north, pondering the precious moments we had bared our souls and shared our hearts. Genuine hugs and kisses assured us that my return visit in September was eagerly awaited. Oh, Lord, life was good!
Reality, through the ages…
If only I had known…
Mom died as I drove back home, killed instantly in an auto accident. How quickly life changes. Like a chipped recording, “I would never see her again,” repeatedly blared in my mind. No more sharing old times, retelling family secrets… no more “little girl & mommy” hugs again. Mom was gone?
Losing loved ones has always been a regular occurrence. Death has always been a part of life. Eventually there’s a loss somewhere…and no more tomorrows?
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Thinking back to another actuality 2,000 years ago:
True reality disturbed the dust one devastating day in Jerusalem. Let’s call it the “Last Supper” day.
Luke 24
The Master’s somber demeanor had been noted, but nothing close to what would transpire later in the day occurred to them. They followed him from the upper room, cheerfully waved palm branches in his path, and laid down their robes as he entered the gates of Jerusalem. He was their Man of the hour. They loved him so; he loved them so.
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“What?”
“Jesus died this afternoon…”
“He was crucified…”
“He is dead.”
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“Oh my god! No!!! What am I going to do?”
“He was my best friend!”
“He raised my brother from his grave!”
“I had him over for supper.”
“He cast out demons from my son’s body.”
“He loved the children so dearly.”
“Now he’s gone…”
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Three days later he arose from the grave; He had overcome the curse of death!
Yes, He lives!
There are endless tomorrows for us to share with Him.
Forever and ever!
Praise the Lord!
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As I get older and attend more funerals I am struck by the sadness of a lost loved one who didn’t know my Jesus. I am also reminded of the joy’s I’ve experienced (really) of playing at celebrations of life, of those that knew my Lord and are with Him now. Thanks, Jeanne!
Me too! A blessing to be part of each celebration. Life is so precious. . . and short. Shalom
Brought to light and understanding so beautifully.
Blessings, Sheri! Prayers and special thoughts.
Hi Jeanne; Thanks for the great post and God be with you and comfort you.. Blessings Bro Pat..
Thanks, Bro. Pat! Blessings. This is a story illustrating reality.
Beautiful. Thanks, Jeanne.
Hallelujah! Jesus is risen. His love endures forever!!
Your support is so gracious! It fires the imagination to seek out reciprocity. Shalom
Jeannie, did this happen recently? I mean, of course, about your mom?
A little fiction thrown in for effect, Linda, to illustrate the event in our Lord’s time. Thanks for your comment!