I have not been at peace. Since Jacob died last March I have been tormented and pained deeply with the thought that he may not be in heaven. Everyone else was at peace but I could not find rest. On the back of Jacob’s headstone we had these words engraved, “Let not your heart be troubled…John 14:1-3. These unfinished three verses were verses that Jacob had memorized and kept in his heart. We had his stone engraved this way in the hope that Jacob’s visitors would take the time to search out these verses for themselves and find comfort in them. But what we wanted for others I had not totally found for myself. I have these verses memorized also, they are comforting to me; I am finally at peace and free of my deepest pain. The unbearable thought that I would never see him again is now gone, I live in the hope of heaven and seeing him again someday. Time, words and your interest would fail if I told you how my deepest pain was soothed and what I have learned trough it all.

For the Christian there is a peace that passes all understanding that the unbelieving world will never know. (Philippians 4:6-7) Jesus made a promise to his followers, “Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you: not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” (John 14:27) I am no longer troubled, I am no longer afraid for I possess the eternal peace given to me by the Prince of Peace. Finish the verses on the headstone and you will read that Jesus is now preparing a place in heaven for those who trust him. He finishes verse six by excluding all other supposed ways to God, he said, “I am the way, I am the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6) Only God could leave heaven, defeat death, returned home and provide a way to heaven for all who would believe on him. I can’t raise myself from the dead and I have no power to bring Jake back to life either. But Jesus does, who else walked out of their tomb? I am at peace, I trust the risen one! The following is a poem I wrote when God gave me rest.

Waiting for the rain

You our rosebud in a garden of thorns; you grew up in sunshine waiting for rain. Waiting for rain your bud would push out; blessings from heaven would surely bloom out.

Beauty in the blossom was our hope in the drought, waiting for rain it’s sure to come out. The thorns ever present and your bud bulging to bloom; waiting for rain it is sure to come soon.

The sun is now covered and the clouds have come in; waiting for the rain and for the blossom within. The rain came quickly; a storm in the night. It cut down our rose bud before the dawns light.

Cut down by the storm, there our bud lays; awaiting the rain has cut short his days. Our rosebud is broken; we placed him in a vase. Pricked by the thorn we lean on God’s grace.

Our bud has now blossomed though not like we planned; his bloom has now opened in a heavenly land. I know you have bloomed in a place that is bright; for you are with Jesus where never it’s night.

Waiting for rain, I see your sweet face, our boy, our son, our child in the vase. Here we sorrow awaiting the rain to cut us soon down and free us from pain.

We love you son, we’re doing OK; were waiting for rain to unite us some day. Someday we will bloom, be joyful, and say, “It’s good to see you, what a beautiful bouquet.”

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