Sometimes life is overflowing with little things. Little things that you think are important. Like paying the bills, and grocery shopping, and pinterest, and weekend plans, and presidential debates, and telling kids to shut their mouths. Sometimes there are even little arguments or little hurt feelings and life is filled to the brim with everything little.
And then something big happens. And it shoves all of those little things right out of the way.
Today, in the middle of teaching a truly riveting lesson about the difference between a comma and a semi-colon, I could hear my phone vibrating in my desk. When the kids had scuttled out and I finally got around to checking the phone, I saw a text from my mom: my Uncle Berg had passed away.
Sometimes when big things happen it is difficult to know what to do or how to act because we are so accustomed to little.
In my case, I sat down and cried in the middle of an empty classroom.
Because my own dad died two years ago, my first thought was, "Dad will be glad to see him." Dad died relatively young, so he beat out most of his family to the pearly gates. I have wondered sometimes if he is lonely up there, since we're all still down here, stoically carrying on without him. Today I was comforted knowing that my dad would have some company up there, and that Berg would have someone to greet him with a big hug.
I wonder what my dad and uncle are doing right now. Laughing? Talking about the good old days? Hammering away on some heavenly cabin?
I am so grateful for family, for strong bonds that connect us even after death, and for a loving God who has given us knowledge of the afterlife.
So grateful for the big things.
And then something big happens. And it shoves all of those little things right out of the way.
Today, in the middle of teaching a truly riveting lesson about the difference between a comma and a semi-colon, I could hear my phone vibrating in my desk. When the kids had scuttled out and I finally got around to checking the phone, I saw a text from my mom: my Uncle Berg had passed away.
Sometimes when big things happen it is difficult to know what to do or how to act because we are so accustomed to little.
In my case, I sat down and cried in the middle of an empty classroom.
Because my own dad died two years ago, my first thought was, "Dad will be glad to see him." Dad died relatively young, so he beat out most of his family to the pearly gates. I have wondered sometimes if he is lonely up there, since we're all still down here, stoically carrying on without him. Today I was comforted knowing that my dad would have some company up there, and that Berg would have someone to greet him with a big hug.
I wonder what my dad and uncle are doing right now. Laughing? Talking about the good old days? Hammering away on some heavenly cabin?
I am so grateful for family, for strong bonds that connect us even after death, and for a loving God who has given us knowledge of the afterlife.
So grateful for the big things.
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| The good old days: My Uncle Berg on the left and my dad on the right, most likely fixing an ingrown nail.. |
