Heaven

Heaven has never felt so close. 

In the quiet of the night when it is my shift to keep watch, listen to her soft breathing, ready at any moment to jump to her assistance, the tears come softly. And for a moment, a small moment, I grieve for the life she could have had. Not in the way of pity, but in a realistic holy anger that sin and brokenness have so early affected her little life. A perfect, full term baby just waiting to meet the light...This is a fallen, broken, tragic world and I have never been more deeply aware. Lives can be changed, stolen, shattered in a moment, any given moment.

I long for Heaven with no tears and no pain and new bodies.

I ache for Heaven with no exhaustion.

I plead for Heaven with no need for doctors and hospitals, medical supplies and medication.

I am desperate for Heaven, to be released from this evil, war-torn, broken world.

And when I feel the deepest longing, I am at the end of myself and abilities, Heaven feels so very close. 

The space between feels thin, vapor-like. And those quiet moments of mourning turn into holy moments of worship near heavenly realms.

Heaven feels so very close because my focus and perspective has changed.

Verses memorized long ago come to mind, hymns flow from my lips. Holy Spirit strength and endurance keeps me rocking, hugging, holding -- giving feeds and changing midnight diapers. And somehow the weight of this world, the exhaustion of being a caregiver, the worry of the future disappears and is replaced with joy, peace, and gratitude. I am reminded through these hymns and verses of God's faithfulness, of my ultimate purpose - the purpose of any believer: to lay our lives down at His feet - "Lord, send me." "Lord, your will be done" "Lord, may You increase, as I decrease." 

We tend to think of sacrifice and sanctification as huge, magnificent events. But sacrifice for Jesus, for His Kingdom, can look like changing diapers in the middle of the night, like calling the medical companies for the millionth time, like changing your life around for the least of these. Sanctification comes when we do these over and over, more and more willingly and eagerly, growing more and more like Him. 

Yes, she is my daughter. Yes, I would do it for any of my children. In a moment, the blink of an eye, tragedy can strike and one of my children could need 24-hour care. It can happen anytime, to anyone. But that does not change the fact that this is hard, this is way beyond my abilities, this is not at all what I expected this year to be. But God called us to this. Without a doubt, God brought our stories together so she would have fighters and advocates and [home], and we would have the missing piece to our family. 

I have been a born-again believer for 27 years -- since 9 years old at Bible camp over one summer. Actively pursuing Jesus, running the race, waiting for Jesus' return or for eternal life after earthly death -- for decades. Not perfectly by any means, but focused and making steps. For nearly 30 years, through depression and anxiety, identity crisis, infertility, several adoptions and adoptions lost; been brought to my knees more times than I can count...and now, through this journey with her, I feel like my eyes have been opened. 

Fully aware of the brokenness of this world, the darkness encroaching, the importance of a single tiny soul, my purpose, the spiritual battle raging all around us. The veil has been lifted in so many ways as the things we have thought important, we realize were just preference. The things we thought were guaranteed were just expectations, and the expectations we have tossed out completely. This little girl has blown our world wide open in all the best ways.

Heaven feels close because my heart is beating for Heaven, more often than not, than striving for earthly things. 

Heaven feels close because every morning I thank Jesus for another day in this beautiful life, and plead for Him to return.