Gone

We think of the things they will never get to do, the trips they won’t get to take, things they won’t get to see.

But gone isn’t just those big momentous events or the things they’ll never do.

Gone is so very much more than that.

Gone is a thousand tiny seemingly insignificant, ordinary things that we took for granted every single day. Things we may have even once complained about.

Gone is no more half full Diet Coke can in the fridge. 

Gone is no more screen door squeaking and papa coming in. 

Gone is no more preaching in church.

Gone is no more sitting at the head of the table when the family comes over, and someone else having to pray.

Gone is no more riding around on the gater checking on things.

Sometimes you don’t fully comprehend the significance of something so simple in your life until it is no longer there.

All too often we don’t appreciate how fortunate we are until what we have is gone.

Not that we are purposely ungrateful. We just get so caught up in the chaos of life, so busy hurrying from one day to the next, we forget to stop and be grateful for all that we have.

And sometimes in all of the stress, all of the rushing to and fro, we don’t even see how much we have to be grateful for.

We don’t realize just how meaningful a pair of work boots by the door really are.

We very rarely stop to think about what gone actually is because, well, we never really think it will happen to us.

Gone isn’t just some throwaway term or trite cliché used to define the absence of someone. Gone is real, and it’s enduring.

And gone, it does happen to us. Without much warning. Sometimes with no warning. 

Until a month ago, I didn’t know the true meaning of gone.

 Sometimes it hits hard, other times it looks like life may actually be okay. Sometimes I cry and can’t stop, because I want Papa back so badly, other times the tear reservoir is dried up. But God makes no mistakes. He is still good. What else can be said? This is where He has us and this is where we’ll be. And we’ll find those treasures in the darkness, because they’re definitely there. 

[I read this somewhere, then changed and added to it to fit Papa.]