It's been a wonderful, albeit exhausting Mothers' Day. Carole and I are barely standing...I, because I did too much yard work this week...and Carole, because she somehow cleaned house, cooked a big meal, and kept our grand-daughters for over 24 hours straight Friday AM through Saturday AM.
But we loved the time spent together with our moms...and our kids...and their kids. I certainly don't verbalize this while it's happening, but I sure get reflective on occasions like this. My mother-in-law is 88; my mom is 85. They are widows now. They were teenagers during the Depression. They've witnessed Hitler and Stalin and Mussolini. But in the same room are children who weren't even alive for 9-11. And there sits Brooke with one on the way.
One day, if God allows time to go on, those kids will sit around a room and talk about how wonderful their moms were and what a legacy they left. And how wonderful it is that they've gone on to their reward...and what a reward it is.
I would get downright melancholy just thinking about the cycle of life with those whose company we enjoyed today were it not for one thing...God never intended for this earth to be our permanent dwelling place. It is full of trouble, worry, and imperfection. When we all gather together in our REAL home, there won't be anything remotely melancholy about it. It'll be unrestrained joy, incredible glory, and total praise-giving to our King.
What an unimaginable feast of happiness awaits us!