I’ve been struck lately by how grief and loss draw Heaven closer.
The veil between Heaven and Earth grows thinner, even as the space between us and the ones we love feels wider. In this tension, we are reminded that Heaven is not just a far-off hope but a present reality, drawing near even as we experience the distance.
Heaven is a celebration. The hope of Heaven is a tangible gift of grace. Because Jesus is dancing in Heaven with the ones we once danced with on earth. Because Jesus sits with us on earth while He laughs with the ones we love in Heaven. Because Jesus wipes our tears of grief on earth as He welcomes Home the ones we have lost.
The reality of death and the pain of loss, strikes at the ache in all of us that something is terribly wrong, horribly broken – that this can’t be how things end. Yet the whispers of Heaven proclaim a future where all things are made new. We see that the Lord orchestrated redemption into our stories long before ruin entered them. He told us this in Scripture with a promise of restoration.
“He who was seated on the throne said, ‘I am making everything new!’”
Revelation 21:5
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
Psalm 34:18
His nearness is not just comfort; it’s the beginning of redemption. In the wake of death, in the middle of grief, we aren’t simply told to “hold on for Heaven is coming”, but we are held near to God – our Father, our Savior, our Shepherd – who has tasted the sting of death and loss greater than anyone, yet who weeps with those who weep and mourns with those who mourn. In the middle of grief, we find Jesus already at work, piecing together what sin has shattered. In His sovereignty, He sees the ruin before we do, and His hands move with purpose to redeem every fragment of our stories.
“Behold, I am making everything new!” (Revelation 21:5) isn’t just a future promise; it’s a present reality. Jesus restores us in ways so subtle, so intimate, that we often don’t recognize the transformation until we look back and see how He has been working all along.
Psalm 23 has been my soul’s anthem for the past few years. I want to encourage you to declare it over your soul today. Write “your own” Psalm 23. David expressed his dependence and hope in the Lord through this Psalm. You can do the same.
The Lord is my shepherd. He is my closest friend and nearest comfort.
Everything I will ever need, He has already prepared for me.
He lets me lie down in fields of peace;
He leads me beside waters that quiet my restless mind.
He renews my joy.
He tells me where to go patiently so that my life paints a picture of His glory.
Even when my journey brings me to a valley where death’s sting lingers, I won’t be overcome, because You are with me.
Your hand is steady and Your heart is tender.
Your love has always repurposed broken things.
At Your table, I am sitting next to both loved ones I have mourned and people who have hurt me. Your table is one of kindness; You’ve prepared a space to redeem what needs to be restored.
Your blessings propel me to believe You have good things for me. And Your faithfulness is my foundation when the good things shatter.
For all eternity, I can live in the goodness and kindness of Your love.
There, I will dwell in Your home of perfect Love, forever.
Ruthie Bond
Ruthie is part of our Christ’s Church family and serves as a buddy in our Special Needs Ministry. Ruthie is student teaching this semester in preparation for becoming a special education teacher.
