As I watched the pastor looking around his empty church, bemoaning an empty sanctuary, an empty choir loft and empty Sunday school classrooms, it reminded me of my own empty spaces during this pandemic. I thought of the empty spaces at my next family reunion—a dear cousin and another cousin’s son. When I next see my late husband’s sisters, only three of the four will be there. An older friend breathed her last on Good Friday. While the pastor will see his congregation return again, it may be a while before I’m reunited with my departed family and friends. But they’re not gone from me forever, because our Savior sacrificed his life to make it so. And he promised!
Published by Sheila Graham
Briefly Speaking is full of hope and encouragement--that's my goal. I'm a professional writer who promises you sometimes funny, sometimes thought-provoking comment on my life in horse country in north Texas and on what's happening in the world at large. View all posts by Sheila Graham