Wednesday, September 21, 2011

A New Day by Cindy Hester

Last night I cried. I cried so hard that I thought my heart would break. Charlie was playing music - music that stirred my very soul. I remembered your smile, your laughter, your gentleness, your fatherly embrace. I longed to hear your voice on the phone. I ached to see you and Mom walk through my door for an unplanned visit. My soul screamed in quiet agony wishing to be planning our next family trip to New Braunfels.

It all seemed to happen so fast. Last Christmas we all had a sense something would change. There was an eerie difference in that gathering of children and grandchildren. We all discussed it, but we couldn't quite put our finger on the source of it. It seems that you also knew. Looking back at pictures I see a telling look in your eyes...a foreshadowing of things to come. From there it all just seems like a whirlwind of surreal events and emotions. Now here we are without you on this earth.

This was the sadness I carried into my dreams last night. I guess it is all a part of saying goodbye. Grief is definitely not an event, but a process. The alarm clock brought these emotions flooding back as if I had only pressed pause to go to sleep. But that was before the sunrise.

Stepping out into the fresh morning air, God commanded my attention drawing my eyes upward to the most beautiful display of His splendor. The golden sun, hues of matching shades blending into a tapestry that no earthly artist could create. The sun's warmth bathed my face as if God Himself were reaching down from heaven to dry my tears. At that moment I felt the connection between this earth where I am bound and the heaven that is now Dad's home.

It is in moments such as this that my hope is renewed. It is these glimpses of God's majesty that remind me of the limitless beauty awaiting where Dad is. It is in these purposeful messages that God lovingly reminds me that He understands the pain of separation I feel. He omnisciently watches over me as a parent watches over a child anticipating Christmas morning. He knowingly smiles at the joy that awaits, but He asks me to trust, to hope, even to embrace this time of anticipated joy. Herein lies our hope...and thus begins a new day.

True Freedom

by Cindy Hester A couple of weekends ago while relaxing in Galveston with family, I happened to walk into the living room of the condomin...