And all of this after discovering the stray cat I brought home the previous weekend - and thought had run away - had actually hidden in our basement until she announced herself at 10 PM the night before we left.
No joke.
Ready for bed, the surprising discovery interrupted my packing flow. Then, as we ran out to get cat food to leave in our basement, Dad called to inform us that we needed try the 7:44 AM departure I had determined to avoid. So we slept five hours and drove to the airport.
And I’m actually doing OK.
Thanks to a time share sale my Dad offered, Don and I booked this getaway for very little. I was excited and nervous due to travel concerns. When I learned the world might end while we’re out of town, I felt even more uneasy.
Massachusetts just seemed very far away. A random vacation locale with several unknowns.
I stopped by my sister’s home a few nights before we left and while chatting in her driveway, had an epiphany. My fear centered around this one question: How would I find my boys if they entered the wild beyond from Georgia and me from Massachusetts?
When we die one by one, I’m quite certain heaven plans incoming parties with arrival dates posted beforehand. With enough notice, our loved ones gather at the portal, ready to celebrate our entry.
But if a mass entry occurs from all over the world this week, I’m not sure how we will meet up. My boys would ascend with our Georgia family and friends while Don and I would be lost in the Massachusetts crowd.
A bit panicky, I called my boys before we left home and made them promise not to settle in heaven until they’ve located me. Sam was quick to assert, “The world is not going to end next week, Mom.”
“How do you know for sure?” I threw back.
“Because that harbinger stuff sounds like Bible decoding games - the kind people make money off of.”
His confidence reassured me and Nathan offered an obligatory promise to find me in heaven. So by the time the kitty we thought was gone reappeared, I was ready for adventure.
And our location has not disappointed.
The quaint one-hundred-year-old home is divided into small apartments that lend themselves to rest. Ours is enchanting.
Outside our front door, a large covered porch offers a great view for morning coffee.
Don suggested we take turns planning our days so he chose the small church we attended on the outskirts of town this morning. A small group of about ten dedicated believers joined for worship that was more like extended fellowship, including prayer, testimony, and a concentrated focus on my healing.
My mind goes to a hundred different places when believers talk about healing. I’ve thought about the subject from so many angles that I can’t merge the viewpoints into one. It’s complicated. Especially when you’ve lost someone you dearly loved after praying fervent prayers.
So while I’ll focus some attention on learning to receive from heaven, I’ll also look forward to the day the world ends, even if I’m in Massachusetts. For there’s an ultimate healing ahead that matters much, much more than any we can conjure up down here.
Are you ready? Are you ready to see Jesus? Have you given your life to one who made you?
It’s a simple transaction. But it changes everything. Absolutely everything.
In closing, I'll share a song I recorded last week, titled The Mission. My five foot two Grandma lived with purpose and meaning. With the end of world in mind, let's press in and do the same.
No comments