
I saw the white of crescent moon against the azure blue at dusk yesterday. I began today looking up and knowing a photo could never capture the beauty of the current constellation.
Now the place in the back corner is orange fading towards grayish blue.
“Good Morning, God” we will say.
I read last night of someone being uncertain of life after death, of eternity meaning Heaven or Hell, of thinking only what we do in the present matters. The good we do towards our neighbor is more to be believed in than Hell or Heaven.
I felt a tear begin, I sat still on my mama’s old chair, sad that others don’t believe in heaven and tender because I do.
Tender, because I didn’t always.
I understand.
It’s hard to imagine. I think of loved ones long gone. I want to imagine how it will be when I see them in heaven.
I believe, even though I don’t fully know how heaven will be.
Lately, that feels like courage and I’ve never really thought myself to be courageous.
Courageous enough to know everything I’ve prayed for, prayed about, prayed broken and burdened has been heard.
Jesus, seated beside God the Father has seen my sorrows, successes and haphazardness in belief.
It’s almost impossible to know it’s the same for every single human who has decided to be courageous is to simply believe.
Even when believing doesn’t take away the hard, the bitter, the devastating circumstances.
It’s hard to believe in heaven, easier to believe “above us only sky”.
I look up. We hear the breeze in trees, call out to the birds, examine the clouds and occasionally close our eyes in a silent, listening prayer.
A toddler and I.
Above me are my sorrows surrendered, my questions presented, my likemindedness with Jesus.
If heaven is hard, even impossible to imagine for you, try picturing all your secret sorrows, anxious questions, angry disputes, and tender moments when you prayed and you felt certain something bigger than you knew what no one else was allowed or could.
Imagine, above you only mercy, only grace, only strength to endure.
Only love.
Imagine your secrets being safe.
Endure.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I will listen.”
Jeremiah 29:11-12 NLT
For the joy set before us, we endure.
“God is breathing on me.” a two year old, her face turned towards the trees

You know, it’s more than hard. It’s impossible without the sweet revelations of the Holy Spirit. I had this precious picture of holding your hand, weeping and lifting that person you spoke of to Jesus, asking Him to reveal Himself. There’s an unspoken longing in so many to know Jesus. Oh what grace upon grace He has given us. May the grace we have been given become His sweet grace to others as we pray. Holding your hand in prayer today, also for your friend whose child died by suicide and your friend whose grandchild died recently.
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Beautiful as always, Lisa. (Do you prefer Lisa Anne?) I love your thoughts about heaven, suggesting we imagine a place withOUT secret sorrows, anxious questions, or angry disputes. I’m sure we could add plenty of other burdens to that list. Even contemplating the absence of these three concerns fosters a lift in the spirit. Then we ADD overwhelming joy, complete peace, and God’s glorious presence and oh my! My heart aches that some refuse to consider the reality of heaven and the gift of salvation that Jesus so wants to give. I pray for holy curiosity, that they’ll be compelled to seek Truth!
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I do. It’s sort of a way to honor my mother. Yes, holy curiosity. Your comments are always an encouragement.
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