Way back in the beginning, when we were sitting on my couch with mugs of coffee and the gray dawn mourning someone we both loved, he had me feel that spot on his neck, his eyes not meeting my eyes.   Later that night she brought me her board book-- a lion and a lamb on the front, Psalm 23 in picture form inside and I wept.  

I pushed the chore list aside today to sit down and try to write because it is all cluttery and fluttery inside (my heart, usually so steady, is beating all over the place, waking me in the night, stealing my breath), but I got this far and then I wept.  Someday, saints, we are all going to stand at that throne and we are going to beam at each other over love for Him and it will be all that matters-- our love for Him, His love for us.  Simple and true.  And not one of His people will be missing, sheep gathered before the Good Shepherd.  Not one soul will be taking time off, or distracted, or skeptical, or triggered.  We will be there, so close-- bodies reaching and earnest, erupting in joy and praise and I truly cannot wait.