Faithful witnesses

As of today, it's  been seven years since my dad, Charles Baker Davidson, passed from this earth.

I hope God isn't offended for me to confess that as I get older and more beloved people, including my Dad, my grandparents, my in-laws, a niece, a sister-in-law and countless dear friends, have gone there, I'm not as intimidated by the unknown realm.

I know that, as a Christian, I'm not supposed to fear death, because I'm assured of ending up in that heavenly place, wonderful beyond my imagination or the Bible's ability to describe, in the presence of My Creator. But I'd be lying if I said that has always been the case.

The past two weeks, I've become more aware of and grateful for the angels and witnesses in heaven.

My heart grieved to see Facebook pictures that reminded me my niece Laura is going through her first pregnancy without her Mother on Earth to guide her. I thought of all the things her younger sister has gone through since her mother died weeks before the start of her senior year in high school. 

And then I thought about how wonderful it is to have Elaine advocating for us from heaven. Along with so many others. 

Saturday, I sang at the funeral for a woman whom I had celebrated Holy Communion with most months since she had gone blind and was in an assisted living center, unable to attend church. I sang a medley of songs that were precious to her during our time together: It is well with my soul ... Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine .... How great thou art ...

I sang Blessed Assurance at my Dad's celebration of life seven years ago. The hymn already had great meaning to me, but it is my assurance as well now.

And, for today, I'm aware that the Blessed Assurance of glory divine makes the frustrations of life on earth more bearable.

The faithful witnesses are helping me to grow in my faith in God. I thank God for that.

And I hope to come back to this essay, because I feel certain it can and should make more sense than it does now!