There are moments in this life when everything seems right. When for only just a minute, all the world feels whole and safe. Something bigger than you picks you up and allows you look out across the vast horizon to see only what matters in the world.
These moments come through many different ways. Maybe from hearing a beautiful song on the radio for the first time. Maybe through marveling at the beauty of a plant while tending to your garden. Or maybe from sharing a good meal and hearty laughter at the dinner table with family and friends.
I don't have a perfect explanation or meaning for what these moments mean to us or why they even occur. But I wonder if they are glimpses of heaven. Pure, holy moments that give us a taste of what's to come.
Friends of ours call these moments "divine moments." And ever since they shared that Cara's funeral was one of those moments for them, I can't seem to get the notion of divine moments out of my head. Primarily because it's in these moments that I feel a connection to Cara.
I've had some of these experiences over the past year. Cara's funeral was also one of those moments for me. Other moments have occurred while working in Cara's memorial garden, receiving communion at church, listening to songs that remind me of Cara, or standing beside Cara's grave early in the morning alone or together with Cynthia after church each week.
There is also another place that struck me again this morning. Some mornings, I'll drive to work by taking "the long way" which takes me on a road that weaves right along the edge of a beautiful state park. For some reason, whenever I'm driving on this road in the morning the swirling world around me and the list of to-dos waiting for me at my desk fades away. For a moment, the dense tree cover at the edge of the park just makes me stand still and take notice of the beauty around me. My thoughts quickly turn to God and my baby daughter. This was the second time while driving along this road I felt like Cara was right there in the car with me. Right there, just like any baby would, in the backseat of her Daddy's car smiling and giggling at me. And maybe, just maybe she really was. Of course not physically there like I dream she would be. But there somehow through a spiritual realm, a divine realm, that I can't even begin to understand.
There is a peace and calm that comes after these moments. Lately, I've felt like Cara has been there to assure me that she is watching over all of us, Cynthia, me, and of course her little baby sister in the womb. I feel like she's there as our angel. And when I picture her, I see an angel. In spirit, I see a perfectly healthy, whole, happy, little baby girl with dark hair and chubby legs right there in the car with me. Her presence brings me peace. Because I know she is watching out for us and interceding for us along with all the saints and angels in heaven.
I love you, Cara...I know you're always with us...much more than we realize...