Pillow Time Wondering

Do you ever wonder if sacred moments -- wonderful, beautiful moments -- will only be experienced once?

I do.

The other night as I lay in bed, I started to think about mortality and immortality and...I thought of the boys.

Maybe it's because my life has been 100% them since their birth and I cherish this.

Maybe it's because, although all of us are changing and aging and growing, I notice it more with my babies because it is happening so fast, right before my eyes.

Maybe it's because of the sacrifice inherent in mothering and knowing that it is different from any other relationship. You give your all and put so much into raising them, all the while knowing that they won't always be with you. You perform a selfless service that is the miracle and beauty of mothering -- and, I might add, it is oh so worth it.

And, at least for me, I feel acutely aware of the fact that I won't have them forever and that these moments are precious. And while I recognize that this is good, I'll be honest. It also kind of breaks my heart. I have to trust that, as every other period in my life, the expanding and changing that will come when my children are no longer in my home will be more glorious than I could have imagined.

There will be great loveliness in the on and on and on of it all.

Still, it kind of breaks my heart.


Maybe it's because they have literally broken my heart with joy and a love unlike anything else I have ever experienced.

I sometimes can't help but wish and wonder and hope that all of these sacred moments will be restored to us. I am not sure if I can quite articulate what I mean. Even though we can record our experiences with a pen, and store them in memory -- and those are powerful mediums, to be sure -- it still isn't like as if you were there again, in quite the same way as it would be if you could, figuratively, be there again, see it again, feel it again -- tangibly. But I do think it comes close.


Can something so wonderful just be enjoyed once?


Or, is part of being a resurrected being just like what Isaiah talks about in reference to the Lord with us saying that our walls are continually before Him. I wonder if we'll be able to look at the significant things we experienced and loved and learned and, in a way, feel and experience that moment all over again so that it never passes from us. I can think of a scripture of the top of my head that supports perfect remembering. (What is perfect remembering? -- I think that is an interesting concept to ponder.) Will this be one of the miracles of resurrection morning?


Maybe, like God, all time will be as one for us.

I hope so.