He's Waiting

I remember shortly after I had Eli, I had put him in the swing for a nap and ran to take a quick shower.  I got out to find the front door wide open.  My heart sank.  There was Eli asleep in the swing but Anna was gone.  At that point I didn't know if she had gone out on her own or if someone had taken her.  I was desperate.  I ran into my bedroom, threw on some clothes (completely skipping putting on undergarments) and yelled to Mark who was asleep from working night shift "Anna's missing!!!".  He bolted out of bed, threw pants on and we ran outside searching for her.  We were desperate. I didn't care that my hair was wet, that I didn't have a bra on, that I was in pajamas, no makeup, yelling "Anna!  Anna!  ANNA!"  I did not care one bit.

I just wanted my daughter back.

Every worst case scenario ran through my mind and just as we were getting to the point of knocking on doors and calling the police, I saw her little head bobbing inside the van.  She had let herself out, gotten in the van, shut the door, and was sitting there putting on my lip gloss.  She was so proud of herself.

I cried.

I hugged her.  I held on to her.

Relief flooded me as I finally had her back in my arms.

And then we bought a chain for the door.

That last little line is funny.  The rest.... well, it still makes my heart sink remembering that day.

I don't know why this came to mind a few days ago, but it did.  And as I sat there thinking about all those emotions we felt, the Holy Spirit whispered "That's how He feels about you."

I wonder if from the moment He weaves us together in our mother's womb (Ps. 139:13), if He begins longing for our return.  If He feels that deep ache of being separated from His children.

I imagine that my love for my children pales in comparison to His love for us.  And that's hard for me, because I love my children more than life itself.

Yet He whispers "So do I.  I have the scars to prove it."

I wonder if He aches, wanting us back in His arms.  If that's why He says it's a precious thing when one of His saints is called home (Ps. 116:15).

We're left with the loss and heartache when we lose someone, yet I imagine Him waiting, longing for our return.  For the day those who've trusted in Him will be reunited.  When we'll fall face down in adoration and worship, and when He'll embrace us, take us in His arms, and say "Well done".

What an incredible thought this has been for me.

I don't know where you are right now.  If you're missing a loved one who has already gone on to glory.  If you're in agony, awaiting someone you love to make that journey home.  Or if you just need to hear this simple message:

He's waiting.

Arms open wide.  Waiting for your return.  Like we long for our children, He longs for us.

And that my friends, is a message that never gets old.