Sometimes I dream about having the opportunity to talk to Lisa, if only for an hour or two.
Wouldn’t it be great if we could communicate with our loved ones who are gone? Just an hour a month – or a one week reunion once a year like our family’s vacation trip to West Virginia each August.
I can envision the rush to get to the annual destination, the desire to be there as early as possible to maximize our time with the ones we don’t frequently see. The hugs. The laughter. The recounting of stories that occurred throughout the year. The asking of advice for the future. A long embrace at the end of the week, knowing it will be 358 days before we would see each other again.
Before Lisa died I asked her, if there was an option to do so, to come visit us when she got to heaven. She told me she wasn’t doing that. “I don’t want to be stuck between here and there.” Seemed like she had spent some time thinking about it. “When I go, I’m not coming back.”
Last night I was laying by Stephanie right before bedtime. We started talking about Lisa.
“I still miss her,” I confessed. I then shared my desire to communicate with our deceased loved ones on a regular basis.
“I want to talk to her. I wish she was here, on earth.”
Without hesitation, Stephanie said, “She is. She’s inside of me.”
Sometimes kids can see things that we, as adults, cannot.
I think God sort of works like that too. I’m often narrow in my ability to view His world. I don’t want to be, but I am. I’m unable, or unwilling, to see blessings, opportunities, solutions right in front of my nose.
Maybe I should just spend more time with Stephanie. She sure does have a way of enlightening.