For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal (2 Corinthians 4:16-18)
The loss of my sister has me feeling dull but not witless; I am somewhat limp, while able bodied. I am confronted by a sense of immobility emotionally, coupled with physical capability. The end of a life is displayed in the stillness of a once animated lively human, and in my mind, my endearing sister is a pantomime: sometimes surly, sometimes serious, sometimes silly, and always trademark Nells.
My grief hides in the shadows of night, or in the dawning of a new day. It flits around me in white butterfly wings and sometimes greets me in the scurrying of a chipmunk, or the appearance of a female cardinal. My sister loved critters, and regaled us with many a story about their antics in her beloved backyard.
A skunk and possum, friends that frolic and are caught on camera too, were two delightful characters she enjoyed telling us about. If someone were to describe you as either a skunk or a possum, which one would you be, and why? If someone were to ask me this question, I would prefer to be compared to the adorably odious skunk ... cute, but taken very seriously when need be (I look forward to your answer to this question, dear reader).
I know how good crying is for my heart. In the revisiting memories, I miss my sis, and the sadness is in the knowing that as the calendar days flip fast, there is more time between when we last laughed and shopped, quite frankly, and the now I live without her. The never agains hit me hard, and that's when the tears flow.
My solace is in knowing God. My hope is in the Lord. My faith is placed in trusting that he has the whole world in his hands, and that all will make perfect sense one day, just not this day. I do not question his right to call our spirits forth out of our bodies, if and when he pleases. Try to resist aging and dying, dear one, it is an impossibility! Think with me now, how very impossible it is to conceive of creating life too: something only the Almighty is cable of. I cannot make butterflies, chipmunks, cardinals, skunks, possums, or Antonella's. I cannot animate them, and when they appear, I am grateful. I cannot reanimate my sister, but I sure am glad that she was such a huge part of my life, and that in my mind, she lives on in pantomime.
Read the words of the Saviour of the world, the one and only Jesus, that wept over Lazarus, knowing that he would call him forth from the grave, to live again:
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid (John 14:27)
Seeing my sister again in heaven is what I long for. I pray I see you there too, one day, dear reader, and with the turbulent unsavoury state of the world, perhaps sooner than we suspect. Get your business in order, time is certainly short.
God Bless, and godspeed.
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