When our twins first went to heaven, at first it was such a shock, I struggled with crying, then the pain became raw and fierce. As the months passed, the pain took on a dull throb, an ache, that only occasionally, like when I saw newborn twins or their due date approached, became a storm of grief.
Now, 4 years have passed. We have another child, who contrary to what thoughtless folks might say, does not make up for their loss, but is a delight in and of herself. The loss of our sweet little ones is not forgotten and hasn't gone away, but it has transformed. Very seldom indeed do the waves of grief wash over me, instead it's more like a gentle swell of memory, of longing that makes me crave heaven.
The other day, our six year old daughter, who was only two when I lost the twins, asked, "Mommy, how old would the twins have been now?" I was stunned. I haven't mentioned them in front of her in I don't know how long, but she had a loss, too, and she remembered. I told her they would be three now and she said, "I wish they were here at the Lake with us." I do, too, honey, I do, too, but I know that we will not be apart forever. One day our whole family, all who believe in Jesus Christ, will be reunited - and there will be no more tears then.
Heaven is our home. Sometimes we get homesick.
"And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.”