there once was a girl...

Years ago, I used to sit behind her in church. I kinda wanted to be her.

She was tall and thin. She had long curly hair and big brown eyes. Two adorable blond boys and a handsome husband.

She was thoughtful and kind. She always had a smile on her face. During that time, we had common concerns and interests. We'd watch our busy toddlers in the vestibule of the church and whisper together.

Time passed and we both moved on.

And one day, not so long ago, one of my kids and one of her kids ended up in the same school together. In the same class.

I was happy to see her again. Several years had passed while we were both immersed in different schools and different churches.

I sat behind her again. In a different church. Her young boys now tall and lean.

And after a time, I watched as she grew thin and pale. And she began wearing hats to cover the patches of bare skin on her head, among those lovely brown curls.

And when we could, we whispered, of hope and healing and the future.

But it was not to be. We laid my beautiful friend to rest today. In that new church. With her boys and her husband grieving together in the front pew.

I believe in Heaven.

I believe there is a place where those whose days have been filled with pain and illness are healed.

Where there is peace for their anxious and tired souls.

And yet, I find it hard to believe that there could be any better place for a mother than right in her own home. Raising her boys. Packing their lunches.

Why can't Heaven be here? In a kitchen with no cancer.

May all of us who are blessed to be able to pack our children's lunches without pain or fatigue remember that that right there... is Heaven.