Glory

Glory.

I don't even know how to fully grasp the concept of God's glory, but my brain continues to go back to it. Somewhere deep within my soul the longing to see this glory rules over everything else: over any of this worlds glittering objects, over the pain of grief, over my own ways and thoughts of what it should look like. In John 17:24, Jesus says: "Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory, the glory you have given me because you loved me before the creation of the world."

What a narrow, shallow, short-sighted concept of God we have. As the one year anniversary of Trent's death looms over us I have given in to depression and defeat. Micah, in his simple faith-filled, child's perspective suggested the other day: "Mom, just don't think about Trent so much, and then you won't cry all the time." Which turned into the round-and-round debate of who would I miss more if they died: Trent or Cole, Trent or Micah, Micah or Cole, etc., etc., etc. Children, with their child like faith; brothers, who will forever be trying to triumph over the other one, even in death.

What a simple suggestion: just quit thinking about Trent and go on living until Jesus comes back. He is with God, after all. I forget that too often. I see only with these earthly eyes. I don't see the Master's plan from before the creation of the world, like God does. I don't see the "little whiles" in the same time-frame as He does. I only see, from a mother's breaking heart, that the turn of the calendar means I have lived nearly 365 days without my first-born son.

What I long to remember is that Trent has been with God those nearly 365 days. I long to remember how long eternity is, how short our lives here really are; to remember what really matters is that God saved him through Jesus Christ. I long to remember how this Savior has drawn me closer to Him in this past year than at any other time in my life, that He has revealed this glory greater than I could imagine, and that this is only a shadow of His glory that will be revealed when there is no longer a curse of sin to veil it. I long to remember the souls that have already been won in this battle: the lost souls, the complacent souls, the hurting souls, the souls in desperate need of hope.

I remind myself over and over and over again that God is sovereign, that the plans He has for us are good, that those He foreknew He chose before the creation of the world for His purposes, and that those purposes will be fulfilled at exactly the right time. I try to keep it all in perspective so that my eyes will continually be pointed heavenward.

But they are so often pointed here. Here, to the empty woods, the socks still in the sock basket, the spotted goats and the puppies that will never be seen. Here, to the battles that continue to rage. Here, to the defeat that sinks me so quick. Here, to the brokenness and pain that cannot be spoken of but will one day receive justice as well.

So I go to my knees again. I go the the promises found in the Bible again. I seek this God that sometimes seems so far away. I commit myself into His hands, His plans, His purposes. I trust that in His time I will see that glory firsthand.

By His grace, yet again, I will strive to live like today may be the day I see that glory. I will live anticipating it so that I might not be found disappointing to my Savior when He returns for His children. Oh me of little faith, how will it be when I see this God face to face? How will I answer for not drawing deeply from the well of living water, free for the taking, an abundance of grace for the asking, grace without even asking, a hand leading, a Spirit guiding? How I long to be found faithful on that day; how I long to be trusting Him on that day.

"You believe at last!" Jesus answered His disciples. (John 16:31)