This World Is Not My Home

She lay so still.  Only her eyes moved, following the conversation as it moved from one to the other.  Our group of closest friends gathered around her bed hoping to comfort her in some way, or perhaps just comfort our own breaking hearts.  We talked of old times.  We prayed, laughed, and read scripture.  We held on to her tightly, but she was letting go.

At one point, I could almost hear an audible "ping" as another earthly tether attaching her to this planet let go.  You could see it in her eyes as well.  This earth was not her home anymore.  Her time of passing through was almost over.

 All throughout her illness we had prayed together that God would reveal the things to us that we needed to learn from this experience. What I failed to learn was how to live without her.  In the three years since her death, I've changed, either in good ways or bad depending on who is asked.  I believe it to be good ways, hopefully the best ways.

I no longer tolerate drama, gossip, or religious infighting.  We are on the same team and it is high time we act like it.  Life is too short to mess with the stuff that taints our days.  I enjoy football, but now I wouldn’t say I love it.  It’s a game.  I follow politics, but I no longer can stand the constant bickering and hatred of it.  I follow enough to be an informed voter, but it no longer guides my days as it did before.  

Earthly stuff is of little use.  Watching a loved one’s stuff get divided up is painful.  I learned for me there are very few physical things that really matter.  Photographs, Bibles, books, good jewelry, recipes, written words.  In the end, even these will all go away.  The time you spend with people is the only real gift that is worth giving. But of course, the only true things that matter in life are sharing the gospel, deepening your relationship with God, and love.  All of it boils down to love.  Unlike things, love can't be divided, only multiplied.

 A few days ago, John and I were talking through some decisions we have to make regarding some rather important issues.  Neither of us wants to make these decisions without the other, so we are praying and waiting as one.  As our conversation grew deeper I told him I don't seem to think of things in the same way any longer and things that were once quite important to me, no longer are.

I feel my own tethers breaking free from this earth.  Not that I believe I am dying any time soon, but who knows.  I could die before I finish writing this, or I could live to be a hundred years old (I hope I don't).

As we were talking, I told John, “All I want to do is get as close to God as possible in this life.  That is my only goal.  And within that goal, I hope to draw as many to Him as possible.  God said to love Him and love others.  That’s it.  Love is our only filter.  God’s love is all that should drive any decision we make.  I’m not willing to play in the shallow end of the pool, where all the noise is generated.  I want to dive deep into His presence, where it is quiet and peacefully.  So peaceful it passes all understanding.” 

On my last visit to the Monastery, I sat in silence, meditating for 35 straight minutes.  That is the longest I’ve ever been able to focus during deep meditation.  It is during times like these that I feel God’s peaceful stillness settle around me and hear the faint “ping” of a one of my own tethers breaking loose.  

This world is not my home.  See you soon, Angie.