A million miles away?

On a writing/book related note, I've written two book reviews this week that I'll post next week.

I don't mean to go so long without posting. I got out of the habit and now it's going to take conscious effort for me to post a few times a week. But that has nothing to do with this post's title.

I said I might post something about my father-in-law. His death was two months ago yesterday. The whole process was such a healing/grieving time that I haven't felt the need to work out his death through writing. But I do want to make a note of that very special time.

In the midst of it, a man requested a book review. I briefly explained why I didn't want to take on any extra obligations and he replied with his sympathies. He also reminded me that even though God might feel a million miles away, He was in fact right there with us.

God a million miles away? I can understand someone feeling that way. But in my case it was so opposite the truth that I just sat and stared at that sentence. It was a foreign concept.

I've never felt closer to God than I did around Perry's death bed. God was such a very real presence in our midst. The entire family was together. In the evenings we'd sit around and sing old hymns and choruses. My husband Brian, and sometimes his brother, would play guitar. The four-part harmonies filled the cramped living room.

The natural-born Helmuths are all gifted musically--a gift from both their parents--as are the sons-in-law. So the sounds they produced were beautiful. Perry had always loved the song "I've Never Been This Homesick Before," and it was more meaningful than ever. (If you aren't familiar with that song, try looking up the words.) "What a Day That Will Be," "I'll Fly Away." Many, many more. I never realized how many songs there are about longing to be with the Lord.

I usually sang along, but at times I just had to sit back and listen. Along with the harmonies filling my ears, the peace of God filled my heart. And I'm sure the hearts of everyone in the room.

It was a stressful time, but those peaceful evenings are the part I miss. Sure, we can have music when the family gets together in the future. But it will never be quite the same. We'll never recapture the feel of it because we were all sending our dad on ahead of us.