My body and soul are constantly groaning, as though every cell and every notion is in a visceral state of yearning.
Even the most minute twinge of pain triggers this inexpressible desire for something more, something different, something greater. It is all the broken pieces of my life longing to be unbroken and complete. It is that little voice in my head that says something is not right. It is the incredible experience of joy that still seems somehow incomplete. It is the relentless nagging feeling that this cannot be all there is. It is the experience of evil that leaves me desperate to see it defeated.
My body and soul are groaning for another world, every cell and every notion yearning for my real home.
These feelings are not new to me with the loss of my boy, it is as though they were written into the very fabric of my being from the time I was formed. I simply feel them far more acutely having watched the destruction of my son’s earthly body and feeling the sharp pangs of mortality with each breath.
But God said it would be this way. He described how we will groan, longing for our heavenly dwelling. And while we are in this body we will be burdened for what is mortal to be swallowed up by life. He even made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come (2 Corinthians 5:1-5).
So I keep groaning, sometimes with audible cries and other times with a quiet whimper—meanwhile, thanking God for his Spirit that instills in me an assurance that death will indeed be swallowed up by life.