I love whistling while doing chores around the house, while gardening, or while bicycling. Whistling enables me to feel carefree and liberated. It brings out the part of me that remembers the joys of the past, and the willingness of our God to wipe away every tear, even when we have sinned against him. I write this without necessarily having a particular sin that looms in my mind. I am remembering every sin. It seems incredulous to me that even when we sin against God and disobey his commands, when the devil pummels us, God comes to us, takes us in his arms, and wipes away every tear.
I long to be that type of parent, that person who loves unconditionally, who hates tears, who welcomes every sinner with repentant heart (whether friend or foe) with open arms, and who never would forsake a friend in need. I long to be that person who would tell the world that Jesus is my Lord, my savior, and my sanctifier. I hope that Jesus names me his best friend. I hope he knows that when the day is over, I always, always thank him for the night, and when the night is over, I always, always thank him for the day.
I hope he sees that every passing second, is time away when we could all be one, a time when heaven and earth could be together, making up for times and pleasures lost. I hope he knows that even when we say it, the hallelujahs wane the victory won. I hope he sees that all the world is waiting, eyes transfixed on heaven's open gate. I hope he sees that when the sky is blue, hope is our everlasting friend, and when the sky is green, hope becomes our everlasting fiend. For hope is never welcomed in our midst, when things we hope for have been manifested. I hope he knows that with each passing minute, our dreams become as nightmares when compared to heaven's lair. I hope he sees that even when the tides are such that not one stone is left unturned, the sea will never, ever overwhelm. I hope he knows that peace is now our everlasting friend.