Saturday, December 22, 2012

Glimpsing Eternity in the Barn

I had one of those moments yesterday when it seems as if time stands still - a gift that happens every once in a great while.  Whenever such an event occurs, my senses are heightened and I instinctively know that I am to pay attention for there’s something for me to see, to learn.

It happened yesterday when M. and I went to switch vehicles with Caleb.  C. had spent the afternoon over at Miss Anne’s.  He’s been doing that a lot lately because he’s restoring an old tractor that belonged to her late husband, Dean (who was also my father-in-law’s best friend).  Marty and his siblings grew up with Dean’s kids, and in turn, our kids are growing up with Dean’s grandchildren.

This was the first time that I got to see Caleb’s fixer-upper.  I was eager to see his progress – to catch a bit of his enthusiasm over something that he’s spent a lot of time and work on.  I would be overwhelmed by the project – so much to do, bit by bit.  But Caleb’s up for the job, and he’s learning a ton in the process.

Anyway, after admiring his handiwork in the cold storage barn, C. started asking his dad some questions about a part.  I wandered around a bit, and it was then that I was struck with that feeling of having time suddenly stand still.  As I looked around, I saw Dean’s watch hanging from a clip above the workbench, just as he left it.  Scattered here and there were his handwritten notes about various things he’d been working on at the time.  The calendar was two years behind – recording the point at which he stopped turning the pages when he got sick.  Everywhere I looked I was reminded that here, once again, was evidence that this is not all there is.  Dean’s gone Home, and all that remains are memories of him, the ripples of the difference he made in other’s lives, and the minutiae of life that he used for the time he was here. 

And the lesson was a reminder to not forget, to not forget.  That life here is but a vapor.  That one day, it will be my turn to leave earthly things behind.  That the Best is yet to come. 

Thank You, Lord, for those glimpses into the truths of eternity.  They keep me going and encourage my heart to dream of You.

1 comment:

Vicki said...

Thank-you for sharing this Julie. Just beautiful.