A hug from heaven

Hope is the thing with feathers –

That perches in the soul –

And sings the tune without the words –

And never stops – at all –

~Emily Dickinson

Sometimes I marvel at the ways that heaven touches earth.  I sincerely believe that those who seek and search with expectant senses will find glimmers of the divine in ordinary life.  For our family, the cardinal is the thing with feathers that perches in our collective souls. Yet, I am still astounded at the wonder of creation and God’s masterpieces at every turn, but even more so am I am in awe of the way that God fulfills his promises.

Through the trials of grief, I have been drawn to verses that remind me of how God draws close to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18 & Psalm 147:13) and collects our tears in his bottle (Psalm 56:8).  But recently my soul has resonated with the imagery of being safely tucked under his wings as a reminder of his promise that those who mourn will be comforted (Matthew 5:4).

graphic credit: designsbyjacqueline

I bristle whenever someone says that time heals all wounds.  It doesn’t.  Grief never goes away, but its intensity ebbs and flows like the tides.  Sometimes it comes crashing down so hard that it sucks all the air out your lungs and other times its presence laps at your toes.  Going into Reed’s birthday recently for the first time in ten years, I woke up feeling peaceful.  My heart was surprised that instead of overwhelming sadness, I awoke content which is another one of those elusive sentiments while grieving.  Content and grief are on opposite ends of a spectrum while longing is truly a part of one end.  Yet on what would have been Reed’s 23^rd birthday, I started the day thinking of how he would have loved that we would be sharing “hugs” through our stuff-your-own stuffies small business at our local Relay for Life event.

While we were there, everything about the otherwise ordinary day remembering and celebrating our redheaded wonder morphed into the divine.  During a beautiful remembrance ceremony, I received a text message from a dear friend, wondering if I was at home.  When I divulged my whereabouts, she responded with an “I’m on my way” text which I interpreted as she had some small token for Reed’s birthday.

Only when I met her outside, what occurred was truly orchestrated in heaven.  She arrived sobbing and I was worried something terrible had happened.  Jumping out of her vehicle, she raced up the sidewalk with tears streaming down as she embraced me in the biggest hug I have ever received while attempting to tell me what prompted this embrace.  She had been sitting at home and experienced an overwhelming sense of sadness and she began to sob.  Shortly after, she sensed God telling her to find me and to deliver a message.  My friend is nothing, if not, a lover of Jesus who desires to listen for his voice and his promptings.

As we stood outside on the sidewalk, she whispered in my ear, God is so proud of you.   You have taken your sadness and turned it into something to help others which makes our Father incredibly proud of you.

The tears that didn’t fall in the morning, fell openly as I stood there cradled in her arms almost in shock.  We held each other tight for what seemed like forever.  Eventually I thanked her for the best birthday gift ever.  Her perplexed look told me she had no idea what I meant.

Today is Reed’s birthday and this hug and message felt like getting a celestial embrace from heaven.  She wept openly as she didn’t know the significance of the day and more so, as she recognized she hadn’t missed God’s message of comfort.  As we laughed and basked in God’s love, I looked down and saw the luminary that we happened to be standing next to.

I can only imagine that Reed, God and his son, Jesus, looked down and smiled because  tucked safely in my friend’s arms, I knew confidently there is always hope.