It’s the Saturday before Easter. There isn’t a service to attend at church. That was yesterday and will happen again tomorrow. The ham has been purchased, the cheesy potatoes and veggie tray are ready to go. So what do we do with today? Is today just about the wait?
I’ve shared before how April is a hard month for me. Those that I have lost, that were closest to me, passed away in April. My mother-in-law on April 1st, my sister on April 22nd, and my dad on April 29th. My brother-in-law passed away on Easter morning. Although it happened to fall at the end of March that year, more thoughts of him surface on Easter.
I’m usually pretty good at acknowledging the fact that there is grief in my past but rarely do I actually turn around and look it straight in the eye. But for the month of April, I don’t have a choice. Too much grief in one month to push back.
Some days it just catches up with me. I’ll be moving forward, looking at what’s around. Trying to catch sight of what lies ahead. But it’s always right behind me. The grief.
I love this picture of my dad holding my hand. It was taken just a few months before he passed away.
He was lying in a hospital bed in the back bedroom of the house he purchased brand new in 1956. The tall, strong, cocky young man that laid his roots on that plot of land was now in and out of consciousness. His breath labored and rattling. He looked into my eyes for a moment and I took the opportunity to gauge his lucidity. I reached out and took his hand.
“Dad, do you know who I am.” His gaze deepened. Those large fingers wrapped around mine and squeezed.
“You’re my Kimberly and I love you so, so much.”
“I love you too, dad.” I kissed his hand.
His eyes closed and he drifted further away. Sleeping again.
The next time his eyes opened he brushed his arm with his hand. I asked what was wrong and clearly had no insight as to what was bothering him.
“I have to quit messing around. They said to stop now. I was flying too close to the water and got my wings wet. They’re going to get a plane for me because I can’t fly with my wings wet. ”
There was no way to respond to that. Oh, how I wanted to see through his eyes! And he drifted further.
My mom, my two kids, and I gathered in the living room. Resting and trying to mentally digest what was inevitable.
My daughter went in to check on her grandpa. I looked up and movement in the hallway caught my attention. It was my dad. He walked out of the back bedroom and crossed the hall to the master bedroom. Not really though, right? You don’t really see things like that. Is it just what your heart longs for?
My daughter peaked out and motioned for me to come. Stepping next to the hospital bed I could see the breath was ending. He was going. I went to get my mom. She had dozed off on the couch. It had been such a tiring week. We each took a bedside and a hand. We whispered goodbyes.
With tears, my mom looked out the window above the bed. The sunset was magnificent. Such brilliant colors. She told him it was a marvelous welcome to his heavenly home.
So now I sit on this Saturday before Easter. Waiting.
As much as the losses still grieve me, I’m thankful for the waiting. Because the waiting means this wasn’t the end. There is something more to come.
I’m waiting to celebrate the resurrection of my Lord and Savior. Waiting to praise The One who bore my sin on Calvary, conquered death, and rose victorious! This waiting is something to celebrate.
Of those I’ve mentioned, those closest to me that I’ve lost, I have the assurance that they had accepted Christ’s gift of salvation and now sit whole. No pain. No cancer. No illness. And they too wait. For me.
That is what Easter gives us. A blessed wait. A celebration of a new beginning, not an ending.
As you spend today boiling eggs, pressing shirts, and fitting chocolates in a basket, please take time to reflect on the wait. Embrace the sorrow of the cross. The whole purpose of which was to offer us the gift of salvation. It was to bring us the opportunity to accept the wait. The wait that allows us to see the death of loved ones, that have been made new in Christ, as a see-you-later, not a goodbye-for-good.
So today I wait.
I’d love to hear who you have waiting for you. Leave a comment and share with me about your loved ones!
