One day some time ago, my sister was laden with grief. She was watching a young girl, around the age of six, bravely fight cancer. This sweet girl had spent more time in the hospital than out of it, and my sister was blessed to develop a friendship with the whole family.

As she relayed the story to me, we prayed. Cried. Prayed some more. Called and asked our warriors to unite in hopes for (expectation of, really) a grandiose miracle. God answered. Just not affirmatively. This precious girl wouldn’t be with us much longer. With each breath, she grew one step closer to Home.

She passed through peacefully, in the end. I felt frustration with God. Even a bit of anger. “WHY?” I cried out. “Why do you have to take the babies, so young, Lord?”

His peaceful, quiet answer came quickly, and with much peace. “Babydoll. How many grammas and gramps have I called home, before they rocked their grandchildren?” My mind was flooded with family, friends and neighbors who now enjoy life eternal with our King and Savior. He continued, and I listened with my heart: “What do you think is happening up here?”

A Texas-sized smile spread across my face. Aha, I thought. THAT makes sense now. The puzzle pieces fit. Since Heaven is a utopia where no pain is felt, tears are turned into dancing, and singing is happening 24-7.

I long for His Kingdom even more. Complete with animals of every kind (no biting or stinging allowed)–babies–teens–grandparents–angels–saints–jesus–mary–joseph—and best of all—Daddy.

Until that day, my sleeves will be rolled up, and I’ll be dressed with a loving smile. Confidently marching on, as more WILL be revealed.

God bless you…with His perfect peace.