Sometimes we talk about our need for the Lord to be a little more direct in His communication with us. We joke about hoping to receive a phone call or an email or a visitation or something big indicating His word directly and personally. When I’m in great need I often ask the Lord to please speak loud and clear because I’m not all that perceptive. Well, this past holiday season, the one where we celebrated our independence, the Lord spoke to me with a real bang.
My husband and I had just left the theater after seeing “To Kill a Mockingbird.” The evening was growing late and I was weary, but we had one more stop to make. We drove quietly toward the end of the parade route where our children and grandchildren had spent the evening laughing, visiting, eating treats, waving at city royalty, chasing after candy thrown from passing floats, standing for the Colors, cheering for their alma mater high school band, and waiting for dark and fireworks.
As we drove along in silence to the designated meeting spot, I watched the crowd of people–families with little children—out my window, and a familiar sinking feeling came over me, a feeling I have entertained over and over in the last few years. I knew the feeling was associated somehow with my personal midlife crisis – the growing up and moving on of my five children. In the silence of my own mind I asked, “What is it Lord? What is this feeling? I need to be able to grasp it and deal with it!”
The following words came into my mind along with a feeling of great compassion, “Nannette, you are afraid that the best part of your life is over.”
The words were surprising to me and came with great force and clarity. “That’s it exactly!”
This simple new understanding was enough. The Lord didn’t have to give me any more, but He did.
We parked the car and walked several blocks. We were still looking for familiar faces when the first explosion of red, white, and blue went off and the crowd cheered. I walked along holding Marv’s arm and looking into the sky, not wanting to miss a thing. Eventually we recognized the potpourri of family camped on the side of the parade route – our kids, their kids, my sister’s kids, and their kids, and a few miscellaneous friends. We had forgotten our usual Grandma and Grandpa folding chairs so I spotted a place on the tarp just big enough for two and we joined the group.
The night was beautiful, the temperature perfect. And these were not the far away kind of fireworks. This was the kind of fireworks show that explodes in magnificent bursts right over your head and the glistening fire trickles down like fairy dust and burns out in a flicker. Uncharacteristically I leaned back and laid my Saturday weary body down on the tarp and stared directly into the sky. There were plenty of wows and ohs and ahs coming from our little group but there was one little one whose simple comments struck fire to my heart. Six-year-old Sammy stood next to her mother’s lounge chair, right above my head. Over and over, after each blast of magnificent colored fire, she asked, “Mom, is this the finale’?” “Mom, is this the finale’?” “Mom, is this the finale’?” She was afraid that the experience would end too soon and was so sure that it couldn’t get any better. But it went on and on and on, one splendiferous burst after another.
I laid there on the blue camp tarp listening to Sammy and watching the sky until I was almost dizzy, knowing God was talking to me. “Nannette, you think the best part of your life is over, that the good part ended too soon and you’re so sure it can’t possibly get better than what you’ve experienced, that the finale’ has come and gone. Come stand next to my lounge chair and let’s watch together the beautiful blaze of life from my vantage point: sunrises and sunsets, babies born and children kneeling at the altar, circles of tenderness and laughter and encouragement and empathy, spring flowers and first snowfalls, the bird nest outside your kitchen window. Now ask me just like Sammy, every time you observe something wonderful, “Is this the finale’?” “Is this the finale’?” “Is this the finale’?” and my answer will be Eternally ‘No!’ because in My world, in the world of the Gods there is no end to the best part of living. So lie back and relax and enjoy what’s right before your very eyes. Stare deeply into the blazing sky and then allow your finite mind to trust the One who is over the infinite good that lies just ahead.”
By Nannette W.
Posted Monday, July 12, 2010
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W.
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janhad3 says
Oh, THANK YOU.
The Hodges says
I love your post not just because Sammy was apart of it but because I have felt that way about different aspects of my life. Thank you for you thoughts and sharing your desire to gain knowledge and creating deeper constant communication with our father. I love you!Diana
Frederick says
I always appreciate your wisdom and insight on life. Keep up the good work. Sharing the message of hope.
Walter and Shari says
I've been feeling this way for years since dad died. Thank you for your peaceful sharing!
McCulley's says
Amazing Thank you! What insight you have given us all. I just sat teary eyed over baby books wishing it weren't over, wishing I hadn't wasted the "best time" thank you thank you!
Kathy White says
How beautifully expressed! I have thought those thoughts myself. Thank you for insight into those positive things that bring absolute joy to us–when we allow our Heavenly Father to help us see with ‘eternal specs’.