In this week’s guest post in our Heading Home Together series, it’s my joy to welcome Christy Cabe, author of Brownie Crumbs and Other Life Morsels.
For those who have been following along, this series is focusing on themes related to home, eternity, longing, and belonging, in anticipation of the release of my upcoming memoir, A Place to Land: A Story of Longing and Belonging.
This post does contain affiliate links to Amazon. That means if you choose to click through and make a purchase, I’ll get a small commission at no extra cost to you. Thank you in advance for your support!
As you’ll read below in the excerpt from her book, Christy has a powerful story to share. I hope you’re encouraged as you seek to live with an eternal perspective.
In 2007, Christy Cabe’s toddler son, Karson, was diagnosed with leukemia. Not knowing if he would live, and told by her doctor that she’d likely not have more children, the haunting thought of losing her identity as a mother brought Christy to a turning point. A sacred moment she writes about in her memoir, Brownie Crumbs and Other Life Morsels.
I rested alone in our bedroom, on the bed, and stared toward the dresser. Trinkets, loose change, and mismatched socks cluttered the polished surface. A mess. A thought struck me. What if Karson didn’t live? What if we couldn’t have more children? If those questions became realities, I’d no longer be a mom.
That realization shook me to the core. But oddly, it also marked a turning point for me.
No angels appeared on the dresser (too messy for them to find a seat, anyway!) and no voice boomed from Heaven. I didn’t see writing on the wall or feel slain in the Spirit.
I simply knew peace.
In that moment, I knew God loved me. God was with me and always would be. I would always be Karson’s mom, whether he lived long on this Earth or not. And I would spend eternity with my Heavenly Father. I also knew that eternity had already begun. Life on Earth represented just a small piece of eternity. My hope spanned a forever timeline.
The mental wrangling, the desired delay of “thy kingdom come” evaporated, and the Lord’s Prayer revealed itself afresh. I realized that God’s kingdom had already come. It had come inside of me. It was already here. I was living in God’s presence and peace now.
Eternal life in God’s kingdom had already begun.
His kingdom is yet to come on this Earth, but I can look forward to that day as well because it is all on the timeline of eternity.
That moment, staring at my messy dresser, helped me to see life truly in the light of an eternal perspective.
Years before, at one of my bridal showers, the ladies in attendance each gave me one piece of marriage advice.
One woman told me to choose my side of the bed wisely the first night because I’d likely have to sleep on that side the rest of our married life! Another told me that Kraig and I should aim to kiss each other good-bye every morning. But mostly, I remember what my Aunt Pam said. She said to always keep an eternal perspective.
It was one of those phrases that stuck intellectually in my mind. An eternal perspective. Now, years later (while lying on the side of the bed deemed forever mine), the phrase became more than just an intellectual thought. It became real to me.
An eternal perspective.
This life on Earth is but a blip on the radar. James 4:14 says, “What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.”
Life is a season.
I had learned years earlier, after quitting basketball mid-season, that seasons do not last forever. I didn’t understand that being patient and doing the disciplined work of the season could prove healthy and good. That my efforts would bear fruit. I didn’t grasp that the imbalance wouldn’t last forever.
That afternoon in my bedroom, I applied these truths to my most haunting questions. A sacred kind of moment where the rubber meets the road.
Life on Earth doesn’t last forever.
I believe life with God, for those who accept His gift of redemption through Jesus, does.
No matter what was to come in Karson’s life or my own, I knew it would be okay.
Aunt Pam’s advice had moved into my heart. And it had brought with it the hostess gifts of hope and peace, no matter the season.
Christy Cabe writes about life through an honest, observant, and down-to-earth voice. She has been known to make her readers cry and laugh within the span of a few moments as she focuses on truth, hope, and humor. Christy enjoys telling a good story in hopes that the reader will walk away encouraged and inspired to grow in their love for God, and for others. She has a degree in educational ministries from Huntington University, drinks coffee every morning, and lives in Indiana with her husband, Kraig, and their three children.
Related Post: Giving Kids an Eternal Perspective
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