I packed up his clothes today.
I carefully folded the sweater we gave to him for Christmas last year.
I slowly bagged up all the his socks, shoes, and undershirts.
I gathered up his socks, carelessly thrown on the floor. It would be the last time I picked up his smelly socks.
I sat in the floor of his room and bundled up each evidence of his year and half here in our home.
It is time for him to go home. To his home. To his momma.
As silent tears fell, I wondered if I had done enough, or did I do too much?
I questioned my heart, why am I hurting so much? He deserves to be with his momma. I was the temporary mom, a fill in, till it was time for him to go home. Now it is time. I should have known it was approaching but I had no clue.
I wonder how Mary felt when she knew that her Son was going to be taken away. She had to know that her mothering was temporary. That she would no longer call him Son but LORD. And that would change everything.
There in things in our lives that happen that change everything. One day we wake up and our lives are different. The husband walks out the door, your child rebels, your job is gone, or mom wants the son you have been mothering home.
It is those moments, just like the days Jesus was in the tomb, that uncertainty swirls around and leaves you dizzy, that we must remember that the tomb didn’t stay empty. His plans were not finished. It was a temporary delay in His Glory being revealed.
That is where I am in today, in a dark tomb waiting on God’s Glory to be revealed. I am sitting in hope, surrounded by a mound of plastic bags. Knowing that Hope can be found in any pile we make.
“But You, Lord, are a shield around me, my glory, and the One who lifts up my head.” Ps.3:3