For All the Saints

By Debbonnaire Kovacs, October 29, 2015

For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive and remain will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we shall always be with the Lord. Therefore comfort one another with these words. 1 Thessalonians 4:16-18

I don’t know how to describe it. Nobody does. John, on Patmos, used words like “sea of glass.” A teenaged, overwhelmed Ellen White used words like “silver mixed with gold.” I figure everybody will be crying so hard they can’t see anyway. (The tears will be wiped away…but later!)

I know how to imagine this:

There’s my Les, my husband, my beloved “gypsy Zoltan”!! His strong arms go around me and I cling and weep and he remembers everything, and he’ll never forget or get lost or confused ever again. His Hungarian nose is still big, and his eyes still have that deadly sparkle, (only even more deadly, because the glasses are gone), and his step is strong…and I may never let go of him at all, except…

There’s my mama!! I rush to collide in her strong arms, and she isn’t wearing glasses either, and her teeth are perfect, and her hair is thick as it used to be (I’m not convinced it won’t still be silvery-beautiful) and we clutch at each other and sob and I get to tell her—finally—You died! I tried and tried to call you, and you didn’t answer, and I thought you lost your phone, but Brian found you on the floor, dead!! What happened?? And she’ll be able to assure me, as I know already, she wasn’t alone. Jesus was there, holding her hand, and her last thoughts were of us…

And there are my little brothers!! And we hug and exclaim, and maybe Steven is still a baby—do we get to raise them in the New Earth?—but for sure Wayne is tall and strong and has no bleeding, suppurating rash, and never wheezes, and has forgotten all about phalanxes of medicine bottles and needles and nurses who cried because he was so brave.

(Does Mama get back the miscarried babies she cried over? One at a time? All together? Or are they grown up… ?)

There’s my dad!! And his heart is strong—in all the ways, physical and emotional, that hearts can be strong—and we understand each other. We both speak the language of heaven now. We can hug and talk, and talk and hug…

There are my friends, my grandmothers, the aunts, the uncles, the unknown godly ones of all ages that I always wished I could meet! And we have all the time in the—well—all the time!!

And there…

…there…

…there…!!!

……………………………There is my Friend. My Savior. My Beloved, and I am His…!!!!

(Sorry about the exclamation points…there’s just no…no language….and I can hardly breathe even thinking about it…

For all the saints who from their labors rest…

Who will you be watching for?