I stood at the airport last week, waiting for my sister, her husband, and their children to fly in. Medford has a very tiny airport. Just one gate. One terminal. People mill around in twos and threes, interspersed with TSA officials. It is quiet, for an airport. Just the crackle of the intercom, assuring us that we should not leave our bags unattended. A few hushed conversations. Lots of people on their cell phones, waiting for their cab, or their relative.I held the hand of my five year old niece as she hopped on one foot, anxious to see her cousins. She clutched her cabbage patch doll by the hand, half dragging her miniature knit afghan behind her, singing softly to herself. We settled down into one of those black leather benches, and she boosted the doll up onto her lap, looking momentarily up at me to ensure I was fully involved in her and her dolly’s imaginary scenario. The plane is late, so we wait some more. We stand next to a couple waiting for their son to return from Haiti. Others around us wait for relatives to return from around the nation, around the world. Everyone restless. All waiting for that moment. The moment of return.
I couldn’t help but think about the reunion that God has in store for us. Reunion with Him, unhindered by the weight of the world. Also, restoration. Of a world that is flooded with sin. With brokenness. In a world where we too, are restless for reunion with our Savior.
I couldn’t help but think about the reunion that God has in store for us. Reunion with Him, unhindered by the weight of the world. Also, restoration. Of a world that is flooded with sin. With brokenness. In a world where we too, are restless for reunion with our Savior.
That He might restore a nation where over one million babies are murdered before they even get to breathe.
And 5700 people die from HIV daily.
In a world where Human Trafficking is the third most lucrative business in the world, second only to drugs and firearms.
In a world where two million women and little girls suffer from untreated fistula and are social outcasts.
Restless.
26.000 children will die tonight of starvation.
I want reunion. And restoration.
My four year old towheaded nephew rushed out of those revolving doors and into my arms. And I thought of the best reunion of all…when God restores all things to Himself.
Until then, I will be restless.
Restless.
26.000 children will die tonight of starvation.
I want reunion. And restoration.
My four year old towheaded nephew rushed out of those revolving doors and into my arms. And I thought of the best reunion of all…when God restores all things to Himself.
Until then, I will be restless.
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2 comments:
Hey Grace, how are you?! Way to find me, how did you do that? Yes, I am married, thrilled and loving it. How are things going for you? Its good to hear from you!
Fantastic. My best friend's daughter died of cancer a few years ago, and that's how we helped her to not be scared and explained to her little sister... there will be a grand reunion. It can't come fast enough but when it does it's forever and we are all redeemed and healthy and full of joy and at peace.
I'm so looking forward to it.
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