Write to Think.

Some people think to write, but I write to think. In other words, I have no idea what this post will be about; I write in order to find out what's going on in my head.

So today I went to Real Food Cafe (highly recommended) and caught up with an old friend, Seth K., over breakfast. He went to Alaska with his family this past summer for an extended roadtrip and had a bunch of great stories about it. I was actually pretty jealous! And we talked about my summer, too, and a little about the school year. I'm really glad this guy and I are still friends, since we worked together last Fall and then I didn't see him much spring semester.

Speaking of friends, I'm so glad that Debbi and I continue to be good friends. We have been since, oh, 8th grade or so, depending on how you look at it. She's living across the hall from me this year--conveniently enough, and totally unplanned!--which is funny since we'd been roommates for nearly 3 years before now. :) She and I were laughing about the good ol days and reminiscing about freshman and sophomore years in the dorms, hehe... It's good to have long term friends.

While I was going through emails in an old email account, however, I ran across some contacts that are close to my heart but I haven't talked with them for a long time. That was a bit sad. I still remember standing on the shores of Lake Yellowstone in the summer of 2006 and realizing how significant Heaven had become to me simply in the way we shall all be reunited. Until then, I didn't really have that deep longing. I have friends literally all over the world, many who I've come to know but won't see again, and I hope and pray I'll see them in Heaven soon. I miss them.

Isn't it strange, though, how we make such an effort to stay alive? My friend Eric N. (my ex) and I went out for drinks the other night and talked about how we always sing about going to Heaven "soon and very soon" in church, and yet we all spend thousands of dollars maintaining our health and staying alive and fighting cancer. It's not a contradiction since God calls us to make good use of our time here, and yet it seems like one all the same. It's hard to know sometimes how to respond to those types of questions.

The other day I watched The Kite Runner and I found the scene of Amir's father's death moving. It startled me a little bit because I had a moment of anxiety about death, about how strange it is and how little we know. (Shouldn't death be considered the final frontier? Literally, lol, no pun intended--rather than outer space?) And then when I sing "In Christ Alone" and it's being played well, I almost always get tears in my eyes at the last two verses. I think of my dad entering Glory when I sing the words: "Then bursting forth/ In glorious day," which is usually accompanied by a great drumroll, and I have this image of light bursting with brightness and my dad walking out of his aged, cancerous body into a new one. (I know the verse is talking about Christ, but it is also true for us, I believe.) And then, of course, the final verse:
"No guilt in life/ No fear in death/ This is the power of Christ in me/ From life's first cry/ To final breath/ Jesus commands my destiny/ No power of hell/ No scheme of man/ Can ever pluck me from his hand/ Till he returns/ Or calls me home/ Here in the power of Christ I stand"

What's absolutely incredible is that I sang this song hours after I found out my dad died, in Friday Hymnsing at Calvin. I sang it with my best friends and my mom, with tears pouring down our cheeks as we celebrated my dad's life and his new life in Heaven. That's one of my strongest memories, ever. The song lines "Sorrow and Love mingled down" captures it perfectly for me.

My heart skipped a beat while I was thinking about this, and my throat got a little choked up. The anniversary of his death is next Tuesday--October 28--and I'm going back to Holland for the day. I'll be having lunch with my mentor, Heidi D., and visiting the cemetery. I miss my dad. A lot. Although that part of my life seems so surreal-- it happened, but my life is so different now.

And yet, going to the wedding Sunday was hard for me. Especially when Jeremiah, Ben and Michael? sang "It is well with my soul" and I had just been thinking about that in relation to my dad. Jordyn was fortunate to have her grandfather around to walk her down the aisle, but I don't know what I'll do. I've thought for a long time that I would simply walk down by myself. I wish I could have my father-daughter dance. It's like those brides who have their father take it for granted, when those who can't have their daddy there long for it more than anything. Maybe. I don't know.

It IS well with my soul, however. I loved my daddy, and I miss him, but I have his inheritance: my love for ministry and for the church. That was a gift that the Holy Spirit imparted to me that I simply cannot shake off. Not that I really want to.



I have so many people I love. So many who are not here; and yet we have a hope for Heaven. (How good to discover that these are the things in my mind and in my heart right now!)

Blessings, friends. Blessings near and far.

Betsy