Seasons

Again, it's pretty terrible how I neglect this, but I really have a pretty good excuse this time. We moved, we totally revamped the new yard, painted in the house, went up North, hosted a Father's Day celebration bbq, had a friend stay for 10 days and went to Salisbury for an ordination. Oh yes, and I'm uber-pregnant. Is that enough? Do I pass? :)
I speak rhetorically though, as all those things are actually not the topics here.
Now that I have a moment to sit and reflect, I thought I would share what God has placed in the forefront of my mind.
My daughter is to be born Lord willing, on the 16th of this month by c-section. As it happens this is my grandmother's birthday, and all things point to it being her last on this earth. It is quite possible that Grandma may not even make it to that 89th birthday. And so as I get heavier with my child and very ready to say hello to her, I also have a heart getting heavier as I get ready to say good-bye to my last
grandparent.
My heart is not heavy in despair. It is the natural sadness that all dear partings produce. But I am reflecting on the seasons of life and the way God has particularly put them in sharp relief this time around. I prepare to welcome a new life to the world likely within days of my Grandmother entering a new life of eternity with Christ. How's that for God's storytelling? Die to live. Emerge to new life from the womb and emerge to new life from the tomb.
Each time I've stood on a train platform in the last few days, I ponder the great metaphor it is for this parting. Lewis got that very well and both Grandma and Grandpa Garfield loved his writing. My grandfather's gravestone reads 'This is the Morning' which all you Narnia lovers know is from "The Last Battle". My grandmother has waited for 11 years to join my grandfather in that morning and it looks as though it is dawning.
We'll tell our daughter about the woman whose birthday she shares. She won't meet her in this life, but she'll have a very special connection to her for all her days. We pray that our daughter will walk in the footsteps of one of the most godly women I've known.
We love you grandma--your dream is ending, your morning is coming. Enjoy the rising sun and the Risen Son. We'll hug you on the platform and watch you board. The tears are temporary.