Heaven [I don't have a choice..]

You can always tell how my night was by my hair the next morning. If I was dead tired and slept like a rock, by hair is a MESS when I wake up. If my hair looks good, typically, I went to bed at a decent hour and got a good night's sleep. If my hair is up in a messy bun, that means I had a bad night. That I tried to go to bed, couldn't sleep for some reason, and finally crashed. Typically emotionally exhausted as well as physically.

It's 1:23am, and my hair is in a bun right now. My heart is heavy. I miss my mom. I don't say this often, but that doesn't mean I don't feel it. Always.

♫ When death, like a gypsy, comes to steal what I love, I will still look to the heavens; I will still seek Your face♫

Not that I'm always sad. It's not that at all. But it is that there's a part of me that's broken, that can never be repaired in this lifetime.

We all have this actually. We are all separated from God. And we're not meant to be separated. We're made to be with God. In all honesty, this God-separation is so much bigger than anything else we deal with. But we've never had full communion with God, so I guess we don't fully know what we're missing.

♫ And though the pain is an ocean tossing us around, around, around, You have calmed greater waters; higher mountains have come down. ♫

Heaven is going to be so sweet. I'm just saying. Full communion with God. Something we can't even fathom. You know that hole you feel? That hole that you try to fill with things, with people, with yourself? That hole will finally be filled. Completely. And you know, you will finally be the real you.

No, you weren't created like you are now. You're created to be something else. You're created to be something better. What stops you from being that?

Sin. Sin changes you. It mars you. You become less of yourself. And the worst part is [though not the real worst part. that's being away from God. but another bad part...] we don't even realize this. We call this sin - these parts of us that are alien, that come from outside of us, this ugliness - we call this ourselves. We are defined by these things. Oh, but it's not true.

Yes, it's the flesh. And we're human, for sure. But we're made in God's image, for goodness' sake. As C.S Lewis said somewhere:

"You don't have a soul.
You are a soul.
You have a body."

A temporary temple. One in which the curtain needs to be completely and permanently torn still. And oh, how I'm waiting for that day.

♫ There is a land of pure delight, where saints, immortal, reign. Infinite day excludes the night, and pleasures banish pain... Could we but climb where Moses stood and view the landscape o'er... ♫

So as I'm sitting here, missing my mom, wishing I was asleep. I have just a few more thoughts.

Though my heart is broken missing her, I wouldn't trade memories of her for less pain. These memories bring me joy as well. I never want to forget a single thing.

She's with Jesus as we speak. And every pain that she ever felt has simply melted away as the glories and pleasures she's experiencing are radiating from Christ. True communion with the living and loving God.

"Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give that person a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it." - Revelation 2:17

Love.