Last week I had the wonderful opportunity to be part of my sister and brother-in-law’s sealing to their recently adopted son, Cody. (For my readers who have no idea what I just said, read here for some info and please ask all the questions you have – I’m happy to answer them as best I can.) It was so exciting for them and I was honored to be asked to hold Cody during the ceremony. The little guy was asleep when they brought him to the sealing room and he woke up as he was passed to me. That was NOT ok with him, and he cried (screamed, really) through the whole ceremony. But to be a part of something so special was such a wonderful blessing to me, and I’m so thankful to them for allowing me that opportunity.
But it got me thinking: being together for eternity is a long time. Thinking about eternity seems really abstract, especially when a tough day feels like an eternity all on its own. And so do I really want eternity? Do I really have a desire to be with these children forever? Being together for eternity with my husband is a given – that one I picked and I don’t even question it. But the kids? An eternity of fighting, worrying, and crying? Is this really something I want?
And then something profound occurred to me. Eternity is forever, but my children will not be, in eternity, what they are in those moments (or hours, or days) of “eternity” here in this life. What seems like eternity to me now is really such a small part of the sum of our existence. And while it seems to me that things may never improve, and that I can’t get past this stage of life soon enough, I am reminded by thoughts like these that this, too, shall pass. My eternity is not destined to be full of the hours and days and weeks of misery that I endure right now.
I read an article recently that gave me a moment of pause to remember that there are special moments (fractions of a second, usually, but they are there just the same) when I get a small glimpse of what eternity can (and I hope will) be. Those moments are the times when God grants me the sweet blessing of knowing that all the effort and worry and stress I put into raising these children is not wasted. That He is mindful of my children, and of me, and of all the struggles and trials we are enduring. That we are special and important to Him as individuals, and that He is guiding our paths.
And so, while the day-to-day drain seems to me a never-ending sentence, in those small moments of peace and joy I am reminded that eternity is something I’m grateful to know will come. Eternity, with my family, will be worth all the heartache I go through to get there.