By Sandra Bost
Daddy’s sweet wedding was this past weekend. The months of planning culminated in a beautiful covenant. Seeing them stand before the Lord, surrounded by their family and special friends, was a vivid reminder of the truth that our life’s work on this earth never truly ends while breath remains. Even into our old age, we aren’t just spectators of His grace; we are active participants in His purposes, and beneficiaries of His promises.
Our work for The Kingdom continues in every stage of life. As long as we breathe, we have a charge to model His love. And we have reason to hope in the Truth that He who began a good work is still perfecting it in us until the day He returns or calls us Home (Philippians 1:6).
Popa’s great-grandchildren had the joy of being the flower girls and ring bearers. The three girls in their flower crowns and flowy dresses with tiny embroidered flowers were darling. But, it was the two little boys in blue that stole the show.
A twenty-five minute ceremony is a lifetime for little ones. Clad in their tiny suits and matching golf caps, it wasn’t long before ‘The Haberdashery Hustle’ began–a giggling competition to see who could shake their hat off the most times before the final prayer.
Our daughter and son sang a beautiful rendition of “The Prayer” (Dion/Bocelli) and mashed it with “The Blessing” (Jobe/Carnes/Bocelli). It was a precious time of worship during a private communion between the bride and groom. The presence of Jesus was evident as the congregation joined in song–mixed with quiet tears and soft laughter.
One of the most meaningful moments, for me, was a conversation I had with my daughter after things were winding down. It involved a teachable moment she had with her Middle as her five-year-old heart tried to find the common ground between missing her Great Granny and loving Ninny.
While Sweet Middle was observing her Popa dance with his new bride, she leaned in close to me with tears forming in her sweet brown eyes. She said, “I miss Granny.”
My heart grieved with her as I said, “I miss her, too.”
When she returned to her mommy’s side, after being comforted by the best Poppy, she asked if Granny missed her, too. In that moment her wise mother chose to plant a seed of the wonderful Truth of Heaven–a foundation upon which her daughter’s heart and mind could build a stable Faith. It would have been easy to say, “Yes, Granny misses you so much,” but that is not true. While it is a sweet sentiment that our loved ones “watch over us” when they go to Heaven, it downplays the even sweeter scriptural reality.
The Bible teaches us so many things about death and Heaven for those who are sealed unto Jesus. First and foremost is found in 1 Corinthians 5:8 which reminds us that the minute we take our final breath on this planet, we are immediately in the presence of God. If we investigate further we know that in the presence of Jesus is the fullness of Joy (Psalm 16:11). This reality suggests that those who have gone before us are not looking back at the shadows of this world, but are fully captivated by the Light of His face.
The other scripture–-that for me says it all–is found in Revelations 21:4. I love Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of that verse. He says, “He’ll wipe every tear from their eyes. Death is gone for good—tears gone, crying gone, pain gone—all the first order of things gone.” The first order of things–this earth with all of its worry and work–gone.
If Heaven is truly the absence of sorrow, our loved ones cannot be spectators to our earthly trials. It is Biblical. While God occasionally pulls back the curtain for the living (Jacob, Stephen, and John), He never depicts the departed looking back at the world they left behind.
Witnessing my family stand in that sacred space was a profound reminder that our purpose on Earth remains as long as breath is in our lungs. Our assignment doesn’t expire with age; rather, it matures into the vital work of leading our children and grands toward the Truth, even when the conversations are difficult or theology feels heavy. We teach them to anchor their hope in a Heaven where joy is full and sorrow is unknown, pointing them toward a Savior whose promises never fail.
So, maybe it’s time we retire the well-meaning cliché that our dearly departed are ‘looking down’ on us. If we really think about it, why would we wish that for them? Imagine them trying to enjoy the glories of Heaven while simultaneously stressing over our burnt toast, traffic jams, and grieving hearts. Let’s honor them in their ‘glorious distraction’ by being the ones who keep our eyes fixed on the same Truth that now captivates them.
As we navigate the sweet middle of our own journeys, may we rest in the beauty of the covenant–knowing that every day we spend modeling His faithfulness is a day spent preparing the next generation for an eternity where every tear is finally wiped away. That is the Truth our children can build their house upon.
