Yesterday afternoon I ran away from home to the local rural cemetery that’s about a mile away from my home. It is a great place to walk, think, read or write (at the picnic table under the pavilion), and generally just be. It may sound like an odd choice for some but I find comfort among the gravestones, knowing that whatever challenges I’m facing pale in comparison with the loss of a loved one, especially a child. It provides a good reminder of my own mortality–although not in a morbid way–and encourages me as I think of how many of the souls whose bodies were laid to rest here are part of the great cloud of witnesses and are praying for those of us trying to press on in our own trying times.
Yesterday’s time there was spent walking as it was too windy to read or write in a physical journal I had taken with me so I got to enjoy the beauty of the pastoral view that stretches out amidst the surrounding hills and valleys. Often I pray as I walk and I feel a unique sense of walking between two worlds–this one and the eternal one. In the 16 years I’ve spent time in this place I’ve often wondered what the people here struggled with during their lifetimes and the longer I’ve lived in the community the more I get to know some of those stories.
My favorite remembrance is from a gentleman who went to be with His Lord and Savior last year. He has two adult daughters around my age that are local friends and his explanation to me of what a crucifix represents to him in my early years here has remained in my mind all this time. As he shared with me, he said the crucifix shows us just how much the Lord Jesus loves us all because He stretched out His arms in death to embrace us so that we might not have to spend eternity apart from him (John 3:16). I loved this and sometimes when gazing upon Jesus on the cross I think of Roberto’s words and am strengthened.
Every day is a walk between two worlds but some days I forget that this one isn’t the more important one as I get caught up in anxiety and fritter away my time worrying about things that may not even happen–or, even if they certainly will, worrying about them will not change a thing except make me more miserable. Elisabeth Elliot has a perfect reminder for me at times when I’m struggling to live in the present moment and trust God in all things and get on with doing the next thing.
May we all see clearly what is required of us in our own walk between the two worlds today.
Be You Very Well 