My oldest daughter and I sat in church yesterday wiping away tears.
The passage of scripture the pastor was preaching from, in his series through I Thessalonians, contained words to the effect, ‘I want you to know how it is with loved ones who’ve died so that your sorrow is not without hope.’
I don’t usually have a handkerchief in my pocket, but thankfully this day I did. For the next 30 minutes I was going to use it often.
When it came time for communion I went and got mine and returning, I opened the sealed top.
There was not one small piece of bread.
There were two.
More tears. My wife who I had lost to cancer not three months ago, had, in effect, sent me a message from heaven.
We’re still sharing together. She’s just a bit farther away right now.
So it was that as I scrolled through my phone calendar this morning, I noticed on July 22 that the calendar said “No events.”
But there is an event on July 22. It’s our wedding anniversary.
And it’s not like I need it to remind me of the importance of that date.
It’s just that there’s no way I was going to leave it empty.
My heart will be.
But not my calendar.
