It’s been almost a week since we lost my brother. My Dad woke up somewhere in the middle with the reality that he no longer has a son. And it made my lip quiver, but I sucked it back in. Those words he said to me, they reveal a parents greatest fear.
He told me how he sat with him in the last moments before that body he hugged for almost four decades returned to dust. Hung his head in grief and told decaying flesh he would join him soon. Because eternity stands close by, in the beating hearts of men.
Sometimes you get so close to life you can’t see it. Like the photo on my banner of an empty bottle holding a rose plucked from overgrown summer. It hung there on an ordinary laundry day, catching my eye in filtered afternoon sun on my dining room table. But to you, it’s just a picture.
And just like that rose, today’s beauty wilts away, so new life can takes its place. We’re all ready to shake the hand of new, but maybe we’re too busy to see it standing outside the front door in the rain.
Your life won’t always be this way, He whispers, while I pull glasses from the top shelf. Layer the memories in a box to give away to someone in need.
He’s challenging me to dream. To dream about what my life will look like a year from now. In two years, ten years, even twenty-five like Rip Van Winkle awakening from slumber. Are you dreaming too?
It’s then that I realize I’m stuck on the merry-go-round of routine. Of days ending sprawled out tired and future plans stalled on hold. And those clumps of mundane moments, they join together to create a nest awaiting the promise of new life.
I want to be standing next to the eggs when they hatch, ready to feed hungry mouths. Because eternity stands close by, in the beating hearts of men.
Do you dream about your future in the midst of the everyday? I’d love to hear about it.
He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. ~Ecclesiastes 3:11 NIV