He is more than this…
There is a lot written about coping, about processing loss through a series of rational gates. There is a “better place”, and there are tears, grieving stages, acceptances, and new journeys. There is engaging in making a difference, and being part of the solution, to be a warrior on the side of prevention and a cure. Even so, there are always more tears. This is because the heart is not rational. The heart does not explain things; it cries divine tears of blood, not water.
It is easy to wonder if the Butterfly remembers being a Caterpillar. And we wonder, does Ty remember us? Here, we find a truth that cannot be ignored. Ty was a gift lent to us. He belongs to the Creator, not to any of us. This brings the humility to be grateful for what we had, and to learn from this surprise. The length of life was never ours to say. Ty’s nine years, his sudden returning home, causes jarring pain and harsh sadness. But, if we listen in the quiet moments, we hear the echo of God’s promise.
We will see Ty again… his blue eyes even brighter, his smile all the more assured, his concerns vanished. This is not rational… and there are those who say “this is fantasy”. Even so, recall the Butterfly rises from the Caterpillar’s presumed finish; into a world of flight, of scents, and of distances… into the impossible and the unforeseen.
Our artist, with care and passion, finds the colors and the brush strokes to bring Ty to us… he does this so we remember Ty, not as a young boy who left us or as a loss for us to suffer. No, our painter brings Ty as a surprise, as a gift pointing to our finish, and how all of our time’s are near. This assurance comes at any time, and it brings to us a flight, changed into a place where we laugh at all of this, and we laugh again with Ty and with Him. Listen to the oils… these speak of divine tears, tears of blood, not water.