“For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison,  as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen.            

For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”  (2 Corinthians 4:17-18, ESV)

I see you in church walking from the nursery – the cute, chubby little boy clinging to his Mama.

I see you on the TV singing and sharing your talent with the world.

I see you on the campus of the school you loved so much.  The good-looking young guy, with broad shoulders and a little facial hair.  Always surrounded by friends.

I see you in the marching band smiling as you show off on the drums.

My heart skips a beat as I see you walking down the aisle in the grocery store.

I see you on the stage acting and making everyone laugh.

Every time I see a pair of size 15 shoes, I see you.

I see you at Halloween when someone dresses as a red Power Ranger.

I see you in the pool -you’re the one doing the cannon ball and splashing everyone.

Watching a mother/son dance at your friends’ wedding – I see you.

Every time someone puts ketchup on eggs, I see you.

Whenever someone sings “Midnight Cry”, I see you.  You were only 3 years old when you got on stage and sang that song with me.  The first time you had ever sung and yet you had perfect rhythm and pitch.  You fell in love with singing. There was no keeping you off the stage.

Families walking in church to worship together, and I see you.

I see you every time I see your friends. Their lives went on but yours didn’t.

I see you first thing in the morning and every night before I go to bed.

But my eyes deceive me because you’re not there.

I didn’t get to see you graduate high school or college.

I didn’t see you get married.  You promised me that you were going to do our mother/son dance to “Mama” (Boyz2Men).  I can’t listen to that song without seeing you.

I don’t see you arguing with your brother for the bathroom anymore.

I don’t see you trying to explain why your room is such a mess.

I don’t see your drums being played.

I don’t see you sitting around the dinner table telling me about your day.

I don’t see you walking in the door and giving me a big bear hug.

I don’t get to see you at the hospital glowing with joy at the birth of your children.

But I know my Jesus gets to see you and I am thankful for that. You lived your faith boldly and made your Mama so proud.

I’m sure you’ve had many conversations with John about his writing of the book of Revelation. You loved the Word of God and were so intrigued by that book. You no longer have to wonder – you now know.

One day Dad and I will join you in Heaven and then we will see you again!

 

 

Dedicated to James Lee “Jamie” Holmes

(In honor of his 30th birthday)

September 6, 1991 – May 3, 2008

 

My Hope Endures,

Laura Holmes

Director, Ephraim Ministries