Breath in every moment of your day today.
Recognize what a gift today is.
Grab someone you love and let your embrace linger just a moment longer.
Take mental pictures of the toothless grin of your baby, the tousled hair of your toddler, the crooked smile of your teenager.
Hold your husband's hand.
Look past the dirty dishes in the sink, the laundry piled high, the stuff the kids left out and see the beauty entangled in all this evidence of life.
And thank God for it all. Right now, in this second, see the blessing.
I guess I am in a reflective mood this week because I sat beside a family that so unexpectedly is having to say goodbye to their Dad, her husband. One minute the mom and daughters rushed past him giggling their way to the mall. I imagine the typical quick, "Love ya, see ya'." And then the next minute he was gone.
On Monday, they came over to my house and we walked to the edge of my property to the place where he was struck by the car. And then we walked over and sat in a circle and prayed at the place where his body was found. Holly held onto his wife. I held onto the daughters.
So many questions. So many tears.
As we sat in the circle surrounded by broken bicycle parts, pressed down grass, and police paint marks- it all just seemed so unbelievable. Holly and I prayed and hoped that somehow through our fragile words that the peace of Jesus would fill the gaping holes in their hearts.
The thing that seemed to bring them the most comfort was knowing that we never left the scene of the accident. The minute we realized there was a cyclist involved, we started praying. We realized this was not just a victim--- this was someone's Daddy. Someone's husband. Someone's friend. We were there when they pronounced him dead on the scene. We stayed until the accident was cleared and the coroner came and took his body. He was never alone. Not so much because we were there because Jesus was there. I pray they know this.
Isn't this what every soul needs to know.
The very last words of Jesus that the gospel of Matthew records is, "And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age."
I have no idea what I might face, today, tomorrow, next week, next year. No idea. Experiencing something like this forces you to see the stark reality of the brevity of life.
So, I will breath in every moment of my day today.
I will recognize what a gift today is.
I will grab those I love and let my embrace linger just a moment longer.
I will take mental pictures.
I will hold my husband's hand.
And I will thank my Jesus for the gift of one more day.
_______________________________________________________
If you want to post a short prayer for the Rau family, leave it in the comments sections below. I will print these off and when the time is right I will give these to them.
Recognize what a gift today is.
Grab someone you love and let your embrace linger just a moment longer.
Take mental pictures of the toothless grin of your baby, the tousled hair of your toddler, the crooked smile of your teenager.
Hold your husband's hand.
Look past the dirty dishes in the sink, the laundry piled high, the stuff the kids left out and see the beauty entangled in all this evidence of life.
And thank God for it all. Right now, in this second, see the blessing.
I guess I am in a reflective mood this week because I sat beside a family that so unexpectedly is having to say goodbye to their Dad, her husband. One minute the mom and daughters rushed past him giggling their way to the mall. I imagine the typical quick, "Love ya, see ya'." And then the next minute he was gone.
On Monday, they came over to my house and we walked to the edge of my property to the place where he was struck by the car. And then we walked over and sat in a circle and prayed at the place where his body was found. Holly held onto his wife. I held onto the daughters.
So many questions. So many tears.
As we sat in the circle surrounded by broken bicycle parts, pressed down grass, and police paint marks- it all just seemed so unbelievable. Holly and I prayed and hoped that somehow through our fragile words that the peace of Jesus would fill the gaping holes in their hearts.
The thing that seemed to bring them the most comfort was knowing that we never left the scene of the accident. The minute we realized there was a cyclist involved, we started praying. We realized this was not just a victim--- this was someone's Daddy. Someone's husband. Someone's friend. We were there when they pronounced him dead on the scene. We stayed until the accident was cleared and the coroner came and took his body. He was never alone. Not so much because we were there because Jesus was there. I pray they know this.
Isn't this what every soul needs to know.
The very last words of Jesus that the gospel of Matthew records is, "And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age."
I have no idea what I might face, today, tomorrow, next week, next year. No idea. Experiencing something like this forces you to see the stark reality of the brevity of life.
So, I will breath in every moment of my day today.
I will recognize what a gift today is.
I will grab those I love and let my embrace linger just a moment longer.
I will take mental pictures.
I will hold my husband's hand.
And I will thank my Jesus for the gift of one more day.
_______________________________________________________
If you want to post a short prayer for the Rau family, leave it in the comments sections below. I will print these off and when the time is right I will give these to them.
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