I was thinking . . . It’s going to happen. And there’s nothing we can do about it. One day, whether we’re expecting it or not, it will happen. Many will be sad. A few may be glad. But in the end, it doesn’t matter. It’s going to happen. We can postpone it. At least for a little while. We can ignore it, until we just can’t. We can pretend it won’t happen, but it will. It’s going to happen. And deep down we know it’s going to happen. Because it always does. It doesn’t ever not happen. I have often wondered what it will be like. You know, that day when death takes me away. Takes me from this life to the next. I don’t think I’m afraid. But I’m very interested in what will happen. Kind of excited, even. I think it will be wonderful. The ultimate in freedom. All those things that bind us and hurt us and distress us. They’ll be gone. He won’t let them be there. On that day, I want to see J. C. and Ruby, Prentiss and Lois. They were really good grandparents. And I want to see Horace, the grandfather I never knew who died in Germany at the end of the war. I really want to meet him. He’s kind of a hero of mine. I’ve lived a fantastic life thus far, thanks to him and his buddies. More than anything I want to see Him. I just want to see Him. I want to see His face and His hands and His feet. And I want to tell Him how much I love Him and how sorry I am for the times I disappointed Him and how thankful I am for everything – all the many, many things - He has done for me. I want to thank Him for the cross and I want to tell Him I didn’t deserve that kind of sacrifice but I’m awfully glad He did it. I want to tell Him that. I want Him to know how thankful I am. I just want Him to know. It’s going to happen. And I can’t wait to see Him.
Posted on: Thu, 18 Jul 2013 11:25:30 +0000