REFLECTION

I was deeply immersed somewhere in the land of thought, unaware of anything going on around me. Music was playing sweetly in the backdrop of my evening. I’m not sure I could even tell you what was I was thinking at the time.

There she was. She was beautiful. I shook my head as if to rattle it from its reverie, but she was still there. Her face was radiant with light. I saw her running, skipping, dancing, through fields of wild flowers that were nearly as tall as she was. A little girl, with long flaxen hair, filled with childlike wonder, which only the heart of a youth could imagine. She ran and she ran and she ran. Her laughter made the atmosphere buzz with life, and there were butterflies with gossamer wings, everywhere.

Then I heard it, the music fading in and out; floating somewhere in my subconscious. A male vocal, sweet harmonies flowing in awe-inspired worship… I Can Only Imagine.

The song grabbed at my heart like a clutched grip. Each note resonated into a secreted-away place, deep in my innermost being. Each word so beautifully sung, struck a meaningful chord within. I was caught and help captive, tears streaming unbidden down my cheeks, as this Mercy Me song seemed to play over and over inside my heart…

“I can only imagine, what it will be like, when I walk by your side. I can only imagine, what my eyes will see, when your face is before me. I can only imagine.

Surrounded by your glory; what will my heart feel? Will I dance for you Jesus or in awe of you be still? Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall? Will I sing hallelujah; will I be able to speak at all? I can only imagine, I can only imagine.”

I heard a voice, kind and deep, call her by name. She stopped, and turned, her lucent green eyes flashing with love, and light, and joy. She slipped her wee hand snugly into his, and then she turned and looked right at me, almost through me. Cheryl? It was true.

There she was, in the reflection of my heart, beckoning me with her eyes. She was so alive. The Cheryl we laid rest, in March of this year. The Cheryl whose lungs were over seventy percent scar tissue, who needed an oxygen tank to take two steps, and was winded by the simple task of answering the phone. The Cheryl who broke free from the cocoon of this life we know, and morphed into Heaven’s little girl.

There she was. I remembered the tears that filled the sanctuary, as the band played I Can Only Imagine, her favorite song, for her, just one more time, as we all said goodbye to our friend and sister.

There she was. She was alive, happy, healthy, full of youth, and doing what she loved best… hanging with her Lord Jesus.

I can only imagine.

Posted by: Patti Wilmot