Like the Deserts Miss the Rain

Friday will be the fourth anniversary of Michael's passing. He's in my heart and my thoughts all the time. I have so many memories of our time together, and I see so much of him in Michaela. It is really hard to believe that it's been four years. Life goes on. I didn't think it really could without him, but it has.

We didn't have the same taste in music, so I hope Michael wouldn't be offended that I oftentimes think of this 90s song in regards to missing him:





Although we lived in this house for almost three years together, occasionally I will drive by the house he lived in for many years before we were married. It's not far from here - just a couple of miles. I don't know why I do that. There's absolutely nothing there for me anymore, and there hasn't been in years. It's just if we're over that way, I have to take a little detour for a quick drive-by. I tell Michaela, "That's where your daddy lived before we got married." 

Michael didn't disappear, but I was with him when he left for Home. I can only imagine what it's like where he is now, and I long for the day the Lord returns to take us there, too. Michaela and I read a lot about Heaven. I have found some wonderful children's books on the subject, and they are part of our bedtime routine most nights. I tell her frequently that Daddy lives in Heaven with Jesus, and she has begun telling me that, too. I try to live with an eternal perspective on this life, and I am doing my best to impart that to Michaela. Some people think that's morbid, but in Colossians 3:1-4 the Bible tell us:

If then you were raised with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God. 2 Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth. 3 For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. 4 When Christ who is our life appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory.

Not too long ago, I put this sticker on the back window of my minivan:

I had to look up 1 John 2:16-17 when I got the sticker because I did not remember those verses offhand. If you start reading at verse 15, the passage is really powerful:

Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 16 For all that is in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—is not of the Father but is of the world. 17 And the world is passing away, and the lust of it; but he who does the will of God abides forever.

It's hard not to love the world. It's all we know. I supposes I'm as guilty as anyone is of wanting to feather my nest, experience lasting happiness, and enjoy the good things life has to offer. But, the truth is that none of this will last. And the best this world has to offer, is nothing compared to what the Lord is preparing for those that love Him. Since losing Michael, I have found it easier to not love the world and the things of the world. It has been easier to look ahead, through a glass darkly, to an incredible future that awaits me. This is my hope.

Life without Michael isn't terrible, but it isn't great either. I am so lonely without him, and our daughter doesn't know her father's love, the sound of his voice saying her name, or the warmth and strength of his strong arms around her. However, I know that there will come a day when my faith is made sight, and we will have the sweetest reunion together. As of Friday, we are four years closer to that.