I have this theory. It’s tested but unproven, and I’ll never know if it’s true as long as I’m on this side of heaven. But in all the ways that theories come to be, I believe I hold a solid contention.
My theory is this.
When you lose someone you love, when they get to where they’re going and Jesus greets them, I think he says, “I am so glad you’re here. Let me show you around, let me show you your home that I’ve prepared for you, and then let’s have dinner. We have quite a feast filled with all your favorite things. Shall we?”
And then, over His dinner with this person you didn’t think you could live without, I like to imagine that He says, “Now that you’re here, would you like to be part of a miracle?”
And of course your person says yes.
And then I assert that Jesus tells them the rules:
1. The miracle has to be for someone you love.
2. It has to be something they cannot do for themselves.
And then He lets them dream and think and network and plan. He lets them be part of the grand tapestry of good things that happen here on earth.
Your person picks you for the miracle, and they sprinkle some magic into your life that you couldn’t have imagined.
Think about it. Have you ever seen this happen? Maybe it has happened to someone you love, or perhaps it has happened even to you.
A woman struggles with years of infertility. More than a decade of longing to be pregnant. Then she loses a parent, and her heart is broken. Soon, for reasons the medical community cannot explain, she becomes pregnant. It tests my theory.
A person chases after a dream. All the doors are closed, locked, unopenable. And then they lose a sibling. And within a few weeks, the doors open with opportunities they couldn’t have orchestrated. It tests my theory.
An artist longs and hopes for things that are maybe too sacred to even name. And then they lose someone. And in the grief and the healing and the rainbows after the storm, the longings become theirs. It tests my theory.
When Robb got to heaven, I think Jesus greeted him in all the most beautiful ways. I like to imagine that he said, “Welcome home, Robb. I’m so glad you’re here. I know it’s sooner than you expected, and I know you hadn’t planned on this. But I promise you that she’s okay, the boys are okay, and eternity is now. Let me ask you, do you want to be part of a miracle?”
And I think he said, “Yes. Make her an author.”
~ ~ ~
Every once in a while, I get to tell you something wonderful. Today is one of those days.
I am over the moon to tell you this:
My beloved Dream Team at NavPress has extended to me the opportunity to write Two More Books.
Two. More. Books.
My heart is full.
My dreams are real.
I am living in the very crosshairs of “more than I could ask or imagine.”
It feels like a miracle.