As I type this, it's been four years - almost to the minute - since my dad's homegoing.  It's funny how I can't usually remember what happened yesterday, but I can still see, hear, and feel almost every detail of that night.  It's etched and seared in my memory for the rest of my days.

Every March 8th my family gathers at the farm for dinner and a trip out to the old country cemetery just north of the house.  Just for a brief moment tonight as we left the driveway to visit his grave, I thought it strange that his body lays less than a mile from home while life goes like it always does for the rest of us.  And how much life has happened in four short years!  When dad died, there were four of us surrounding his hospital bed.  Tonight we numbered six standing around his grave.  He would have thoroughly enjoyed and been so proud of his baby granddaughter and new son-in-law.  I know he took joy in us as we were at the time, but how much more he would have felt with these two new additions to our family!

It's true, the saying that heaven becomes more real after a loved one goes there.  Heaven has never been more real to me than four years ago tonight when I drove home from the hospital.  The transition from this temporary life into the glorious eternal one is a beautiful mystery.  I eagerly await and anticipate the day I can shed this earthly body and step into my forever life.  No more fear or worry, brokenness or shame.  Only joy and love.  And Jesus.  Just Jesus.  Because of his body broken and blood poured out for me, I live.  I have hope, and I have life.

"Where, O death, is your victory?  Where, O death, is your sting?"  -1 Cor. 15:55