Want to Know

As I was washing baby things yesterday, I took an extra moment to caress the flannel blankets that my Grandma made for my son.  I fingered the crocheted details bordering the edge and thought of her sitting in her living room on the porch swing she had for a couch.  Feet on an avocado-green ottoman, gently gliding back and forth as she went around and around each square of flannel to add her handmade touch.

I had the gift of sharing a home with her as a teenager, but completely wasted that time with her.  I was so absorbed in the narcissistic universe that is teen drama that I missed out on so much of what could have been a precious inheritance of her wisdom and skill.

She's been in heaven for almost ten years now.  She took time a long time ago to make a set of baby blankets for each of her grandchildren.  My "girl" blankets are soft and loved, but the "boy" set was still crisp and stiff.  As I took them out of the dryer, I said a little thanks for her thoughtfulness.

I want my children to know her.  And that made me think of Easter.  Christ conquered death and the grave, that's what I've been telling my girls for the last week.  We can live forever with Him in heaven because He holds the key.  And when we get there, we'll see all those people who have gone before us.

I want to know if those relationships will still matter to us when we get there.  Or will we just be so overcome with adoration and worship, that it doesn't matter who we're with?  They are all family and we are united in our worship.  Or will those relationships be fulfilled in a way that can only happen in the presence of God?

When I was younger, I would hear older people praying for Christ's quick return and wonder what kind of crazy thing they were praying.  "Don't come too soon, Jesus, I've got things I want to do!" But I understand now, and I'm sure the longing will only get stronger.  Come, Lord Jesus, come.  I want to know.