We are...we are just made of dust. These vessels that hold our spirits - our souls - are transitory. They are going to fail - get old, get crippled, get cancer.
It's the vessel that we see and fall in love with. It's that sweet smile and goofy laugh. It's the way our little boy makes car noises with his lips. Watching their fingers as they reach for our hands. The slow smile that spreads over his face when he gets a joke.
Does that beloved form also translate to eternity? I worry, because Jesus' friends had a hard time recognizing Him when He rose from the dead. Is that because He didn't really look like Himself?
How am I going to know my son? Will he look like I remember him? Will his soul shine through his eyes?
My husband always says that if something isn't in "heaven" - the promised land, the other side, the New Jerusalem - then we won't miss it. I've got to believe that my Father loves me, that He knows and gives us the best gifts.
I know what I want. I want to see that silly, goofy slow smile again.
