I felt a tremendous weight on me earlier today. My Uncle Morris, whom I believe will be 90 in September, has been moved to hospice care. This comes a short 3 months or so after the passing of my Aunt Sonja, his wife of 67 years. Amazing! This is likely the longest they have ever been apart in all that time. I know he feels braced and ready for the impact of love he will experience in the moment when he is greeted by Jesus face to face, and all who have gone before surround him.

I admit there is a part of me that wants to be angry with the hospital and caregivers, as he became increasingly challenged with more complicated and serious health issues the longer he was there with them. It gave the impression that no one truly cared, and that they may as well have ushered him into a dark hallway and left him there alone. I struggled with the framework of judgement I mentioned in a recent post.

Truth be told, he’s already let go of this life and for me, that was just something cloaking my sadness about him being the last of that generation in my family. Knowing this makes me feel a little lost and unsure, like a child still wobbly in the legs. Am I ready to step up and become part of that next generation who is now the oldest? I hadn’t realized how tightly connected we all are until now, and how much of the confidence in who I am came from them.

Lord Jesus, thank you that you have not left me alone and orphaned! I am pressing in to You now, embracing my calling and purpose to love You and love others well in this life, now more than ever. May I impact and join You in Your intercession for others. May Your light in me shine more brightly with each passing day. I want to be so one with You that I one day become unaware of my own passing, unaware that I have moved out of this body to be forever in Your presence, because I was already there ❤️ Amen