Gratitude

The Flip Side of Gloom

The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined. Isaiah 9:2

Many writers and bloggers choose a word for the New Year. I remember last year I was entertaining this idea and before I could even ask God what word He would whisper to my spirit from His, the word came:

GLOOM

This can’t be right, I thought. Most people get hope filled inspirational words others could latch onto happily like HOPE, JOY, PERSEVERENCE, FAITH, LOVE. But I get Gloom, and it was persistent. Recent circumstances have brought forth the meaning in someone I care about deeply. Something that was supposed to be a relatively low risk surgical procedure has turned into a nasty infection and she is fighting it with everything she has. It’s been almost two months now. We are fighting it together with the Lord and all His angels we can muster. We’ve both had our turn at caretaking both sets of parents, and now it’s her turn to be taken care of. And that’s tough for someone with a caretaking spirit. And we ask why. My best friend is a person who rises each day and sincerely wants to leave someone or something in her world better.

Life can turn on a dime. We all know this. What started out as a procedure that is done each and every day, (with minimal risk, we were told) something both our brothers had done, and my mom had done twice. How could this seemingly innocuous procedure leave someone young(ish) and active, first in the ER, then in ICU? This is my person, my sister in Christ, my best friend of almost 40 years, someone who fixes everything broken. How could this happen?

Three surgeries in 3 weeks, and the days stretched on. An agonizing night in the hospital praying and holding her hand when she awoke battling fear and great pain. You quickly get used to a different life. It’s very hard to watch someone you love suffer, and harder still for them, cast suddenly into a world of IVs, endless rounds of pain meds, not to mention the horrendous pain itself. If all went well, she was supposed to be home 2 weeks ago, doing therapy and walking around.

I re-learned that a whole host of people have been cast unwillingly into this alternative universe. I learned the agony of waiting in the waiting room for any news at all. Of course, I knew that others had this life and I was empathetic, but I wasn’t part of it. Until you are the one standing at the elevator in exhaustion, forgetting what button to push, it is just a sad nod at someone else’s life.

We have now moved from the hospital life to a convalescent life. An alternative universe of still another set of challenges. The first room she shared an adjoining bathroom with a man who wasn’t all there, both physically and mentally. She awoke to him walking through the room stark naked and he then proceeded peeing all over the bathroom floor. (And she fighting a major infection) Then there was the one who yelled for help all night across the hall. It was starting to feel like “One Flew Over the Cuckcoo’s Nest.” We enlisted the help of a wonderful PT who came to the rescue and got her moved to the next wing. (Thanks be to God). It has been better over there. Thankfully, the staff for the most part is good and geared toward getting people out of there if they possibly can.

Thanksgiving came and went in the hospital, and Christmas will come and go in Rehab. Our Holidays have been spent clinging to the Rock (Psalm 18:2) and calling on the name of Jehovah Rapha, our healer. I drove through some of the roughest streets in Stockton at night during Thanksgiving. An adorable porch display on Acacia Street with lights and inflatable turkeys made me cry for some reason but I was grateful for it. Something about the hope in that silly little display touched my heart. In my other life, I would never have driven any of those streets at night, (there was a gang shooting that took place close by that same week), But God delivered me from all fear and brought me safely home each time.

And Satan, ever vigilant to swoop on those who belong to the Lord, one morning got the best of me. My thoughts were blackest of black and his voice taunted me. “Does the Lord always heal?” He then set about reminding me of all those who I had prayed for in the past who had left this earth for eternity anyway.

It’s easy to have faith when you think you know the outcome, but how about when the path ahead is obscured? That takes real faith. It’s the “Help my unbelief” kind of faith.

When my mind was grasping for sanity, there in the dark I cried to the Lord as the Psalmist did:

In my trouble I cried to the Lord, and He answered me. Deliver my soul, O Lord, from lying lips, from a deceitful tongue. Psalm 120:1,2

In this case the lying lips were straight from hell, and I don’t belong there. I told him that too. I claimed the blood of Jesus over all of it. And then like a crack of warm oil flowing into my heart God reminded me of how I had been healed so many years ago. “Remember that day, Lori?” Oh yes, Lord I do. Please forgive me for listening to that voice even for a minute. Then I got up and prayed face down upon the chair and felt all the darkness dissipate. The cats were worried.

And the day got better. On the way to the Rehab a rainbow revealed itself as God’s eternal promise. This after weeks of no sun in sight. And later, in the Doctors office, Elaine got both drain tubes taken out. (We prayed for at least one). Later I stopped by the library having dumped the 3 books I couldn’t seem to focus on, there on the new shelf was the new one by Jan Karon. Another God sign, (I’ll take it).

In light of all these things, we hold out Hope because we know the One who can vanquish the darkness of this world. She has been asking everyone in the hospital if they know Jesus. When you have been through the valley of shadows struggling for breath, you realize again what’s truly important.

In the meantime, while we are here in the “Waiting Room” of this world before eternity, here is my Christmas list for those grasping for the Light in a world that has gone very dark.

No more waiting rooms, no more waiting for test results, no more shattered hearts. No more grief that sucks the life out of you. I look for the time of turning swords into plow shears, and hearts softening and turning to Jesus who holds the keys of death and hades, but also holds out the perfect gift which is himself, so we never have to worry about the latter.

You’ve got this because He’s got you. We know firsthand the flipside of Gloom and His name is Jesus.

Earth, strike up your music, birds that sing and bells that ring; Heaven hath answering music for all Angels soon to sing: Earth, put on your whitest Bridal robe of spotless snow: For Christmas bringeth Jesus, brought for us so low. Christina Rossetti

I got nothing


There are those days when I want so badly to write but nothing comes. Today was one. I started a whole blog post but felt as if I were digging into a place I didn’t want to have to dig out of. Mentally. It’s a beautiful Indian summer day. Can we still use that term? I used my fluffy blanket last night which makes me happy going to bed. Even if I have to throw them off during the night in a fit of clammy huffiness. Then I awoke with a feeling of the ground shifting (not an earthquake). It’s not quite fear, just uneasiness. I fished my phone out from under my pillow, pulled up You Tube, and found an Abide called, “Peaceful Night with God (Stories for Sleep) within about 15 minutes I was fast asleep. They don’t work for everyone, my friend tried it and she kept waiting for a story with a beginning, middle and end. They don’t do that, rather they meander around like some Jazz tunes do.

Anyway, I have felt uneasy the last few days, and I remember this morning that the second was the day my mom went to Heaven. The second was Yom Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar; the Day of Atonement. Tradition holds that one’s fate for the coming year is sealed on Yom Kippur, which determines if their name is written in the Book of Life. That’s the really big most important book. This is how you can know you are there: https://bibletruths.org/is-your-name-written-in-the-lambs-book-of-life/

Yom Kippur commemorates the day when Moses came down from Mount Sinai with the 10 Commandments which God Himself wrote on with a finger of lightning. Of course, after praying and fasting, he came down and found that Israel had fashioned their own god (small g). They had got tired of waiting. Don’t be too judgmental, I can remember many times in my life when I got tired of waiting for answered prayer and I’m sure you can too. All I have to do is try to put my phone away for two hours and I realized just how close I come to worshiping something man-made.

Anyway, it’s a beautiful day. I’m going over to feed my aunt’s neighbors’ cats, then go to church and after that attend our local Fall Festival downtown. I asked God this morning in prayer if He would shift the insides to sunny instead of cloudy gloom and it seems like He’s done it. (Thank you God) The best thing we can do on any given day is to be thankful. Being thankful is the best way to Worship God. And don’t forget to thank God for your washer and dryer. Having to go to a Laundromat for 8 years is extremely humbling. Just now, a train blew through, and I thank God for that. I always pray that the conductor won’t have to worry about someone passed out on the tracks. (It’s happened many times) I remember how I missed trains in Arizona.

Well, so long for now. And have a blessed day.

Road Trip

A bus seen in San Diego

It’s gone…..and it was hard, and it was easy. Easy because it was time, hard because I know those times won’t be coming again. There are the memories though, lots of them. Those will be there forever, God willing, hidden and vibrant in the core of my being for a long time to come. I don’t have to work too hard to hear those sounds. Feel the excitement of getting ready, packing, shopping. I don’t know about you, but road trips usually mean getting treats you don’t usually allow yourself. For me, it’s Cherry Poptarts, only Cherry, no others will do. When I was a kid, it was Svenhardts packaged rolls and pancakes over the Coleman stove. Man, those were good. As long as I live, I will hear the noises of Lower Pines Campground waking up in Yosemite. The pounding of tent pegs echoing off those sheer granite cliffs. Stellars jays squawking from branch to branch. The promise of coffee which tasted of liquid gold as the finger of light crept over Sierra Point, warming the edge of the meadow.

Road trips are a special kind of magic because you never know what you might see on the road. We’ve rounded a bend on the Oregon coast to see a car overturned with a man standing outside of it scratching his head. A couch in the middle of the road. An elk the size of a small state just about to cross the road. A windshield wiper blowing off with a storm approaching. And you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a thunderstorm rolling across the desert. And all the anticipation of the arrival of your destination in the forefront of your mind.

Many years after the tent camping days of my childhood, the 2004 Fleetwood Flair was purchased. It was a brand-new era. It was more glamping than camping and it was wonderful. All the joy and freedom of camping out with a soft bed and as many shoes and boots as I wanted. Excuse me for a few minutes while I let my mind wander. How can you explain the freedom of hitting the road and finally reaching your destination? Waiting with bated breath as you find out where the camp host has parked you. And then, the setup, which was minimal in the Motorhome, that was the best part. As the camp chairs are finally dragged to the right spot you feel yourself exhale, knowing you’ll be here for a while. Cut off from the cares of jobs, responsibilities, and life. Freedom.

I guess you could say this life is one long road trip, full of good and bad, trial and error, mishaps, mistakes and then finally the times when you coast. Everything going right. You savor those times, and you enjoy the scenery. Maybe you even think about your destination. Not the immediate one, the final one. I think as we get older, we do more thinking along those lines, or maybe we try not to think about it at all. It’s there in the question that frames itself in conversations with others or thoughts before we drift off to sleep. But it’s there just the same.

Jesus had lots to say about our final destinations. Both of them. If you don’t believe in a final destination, you probably don’t think too much about it. As Christian believers, our faith, our life, is centered on the hope that only Jesus has the ticket for our final destination. But even more than a vain hope, it’s a knowledge based on His life, death and resurrection. He’s the One who paid our admission. The only One who can. So, know this:

Life is Good. But life with Jesus the life is everlasting. The most important Road Trip you will ever take.

“The Bus”

Be Still and Know

This morning, I awoke kind of unsettled. I wandered around in the dim early morning light and gave the cats a snack. Then I poured coffee and settled in my chair with shades drawn. It wasn’t time for light. Yet. I felt “Meh” and I didn’t feel like praying. I just sat. Sometimes just the act of being still is exactly what God wants us to do in that moment. So, I just sat. Just so happened that my dial landed on Ecclesiastes today for my reading plan. Perfect. God has a sense of humor, I knew that but sometimes you need to be reminded.

“Cease striving…….”

And don’t we continue to strive even when we are sitting still? Our minds are almost never inactive. As I settled into the quiet, (in my funk) I sensed the presence of the Holy Spirit, and I remembered another morning. He reminded me of when I was so irritated at the traffic noise, and He prompted me to transform my irritation into an offering of prayer. And so, I did. I prayed for every car I heard and the person behind the wheel. I started to feel a love for all those people hurrying wherever they were going, and all the problems and heartaches (and joys) behind each life. Then I heard the train come through and I prayed for everyone on it. I was transformed.

Even now, when I hear the traffic, I hear something different because when you allow God to work, He can change our normal everyday irritations into something much different. And I could ache like I do, for the pines or the ocean and go to go that quiet place, even my closet, and find that I have come out refreshed as if I had just spent time watching the waves crash upon the shore or hearing the wind making the pines sigh.

God uses what we have. And sometimes what we have is not much, but God is God so He can make our nothing into something if we invite Him with only a whisper of a prayer or an almost thought we don’t even remember thinking.

Then, one more thing happened as I sat down to write this blog. I heard David Nevue play “The Lion and the Lamb” and that song always wiggles me because it takes me back to when blogging was new and we were all like neighbors visiting at the back fence or on the porch conversing over a steaming mug of coffee. Those times were so sweet that it almost hurts to remember. But not in a bad way.

Friends, I hope you can glimpse a bit of eternity today. Pause and remember how it must have been when it was all so new. And how it can be right now as you invite God into your everyday normal and precious life.

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Philippians 1:2

Beyond the Nails

Morning walk: My feet pounded a rhythm on the sidewalk and my mind at last freed itself from the usual bondage of useless thoughts. They come unbidden and unwelcome, springing from nowhere land, either from the murky depths of the past or from the distant future of worry land. I guess it’s normal, this overactive thinking. Writers have a term for it, it’s called “Monkey Mind.” It’s a Buddhist term describing a restless, unsettled, and easily distracted mind that jumps from thought to thought, similar to a monkey swinging from branch to branch. When you are sitting down to a creative task or even minding your business going about your day, these are the negative, deflating, harmful and useless thoughts that drive us to distraction.

For me, walking is a great way to quiet the “Monkey Mind.” I release my mind and start to observe things. Flowers, tree branches against the blue sky, Mothers wheeling strollers, people doing outdoor tasks. Much of the time I simply pray and thank God for everything under the sun. Today I was listening to “What a Beautiful Name it is” by Hillsong Worship. I started to sing along softly, and I got a vision of Jesus at the dawn of Creation. I thought of them, Father, Son and the Holy Spirit (they were all there) but it was Jesus I thought of. I love animals and nature, so I thought of Jesus creating something and then saying, “Just wait until Lori sees this!” It was so personal. I caught His excitement and then thought of all He had to go through, knowing how we would fail so miserably at obeying his One and only command in Eden.

And yet, they kept going and created it all for us. From the very beginning Jesus knew what we would do, and He knew what He would do to restore it all. And even now, as we observe the beauty around us, as wonderful as it is, we know it’s just a precursor of what’s to come. As Jesus called each star by name, I believe He was already looking ahead, beyond the Fall, beyond the Flood, beyond the Nails and the Cross, to the restoration and redemption of His creation.

Too often, we miss the thousand miracles that present themselves to our view every day because we are too worried about tomorrow or mulling over past mistakes. And too often we try to fix people instead of just loving them where they are. Only God can do the fixing anyway. Another thought while walking, that Church needs to be more like our favorite cafe where you are loved, and known, greeted (and maybe even hugged.) Church shouldn’t be a spectator sport, and I blame myself just as much as everyone else. Maybe it could be more like this:

“Hey friend, welcome in, find a spot wherever you want, either a booth or a table!

As I got closer to the end of my walk, I saw a woman by a church who had just unloaded a van full of kids and they were all spreading towels and blankets on the grass, having just gone swimming somewhere. They were all excited and happy, all talking at once, thrilled just to be in the moment.

Maybe I can practice that?

Holding on……

It’s been two years since her Daddy, (my brother) passed and recently we went to one of their favorite places. We went to recapture, remember, and most importantly, make some new memories. For in all the loss that this life can throw at us, love always remains. And we are thankful, so thankful for these times.

For the best thing we can do sometimes, is hold on to what remains. And it’s a lot.

We played, we splashed in the water, and we rode the Carousel several times, and the log ride. I am not a big fan of roller coasters but the log ride I can do. Just to hear her laugh and scream at me getting wet, it was worth everything. And when she grabbed my hand as we walked all day on the boardwalk, I felt like I had been given a precious gift. Parents of Special Needs kids (and adults) have a challenging task and I will never minimize it.

but I also believe it comes with many blessings that bleed through the exhaustion……

I guess you have to balance what you lose and what you gain along the way.

You may have a much different timetable that everyone else has. Your victories are bigger even when the tasks may be minimal according to what the world thinks. But you celebrate them just the same and maybe more. I remember when she was small, things like going into a store, seeing a man with a beard, or a floaty in a swimming pool meant a hasty retreat out of there.

With all the challenges you face, you remember. And sometimes the remembering makes you cry.

As she grabbed my hand in the crowd this past weekend, I flashed back to this picture when she was about 5 with her dad. Here’s the thing. What would you give to have your grown 22-year-old grab your hand once again? Maybe they are off to college, living far away, or maybe they are in the next room, sullen and an island all to themselves.

What would you give?

But I got to do this. I got to hold her hand and it was a gift she gave me that remains with me still. What a tremendous blessing that we get to see the world through their eyes, and it is still a magical and wondrous place. So, Special Needs parent, God has given you an extra responsibility and you will need your village behind you.

There are challenges. There are the times like this weekend when her world came to an end and her brain was stuck in an endless loop of not wanting to go home, not want it to end. It can be so agonizing when you can’t help. (Hey, I get that way too at the ocean). And it didn’t help that someone had an accident in the pool, and it was closed. That might have helped soften the edges. But to her credit she and Mom got through it.

In the end, I believe Heaven has a place saved for these kids, because in some ways they have never left. They show us the way of simple joy, and purity and how it was long ago in the beginning, without fear, without darkness, when everything was brand new and each new day was a gift to be discovered.

I love you Lauryn, your Auntie Lori.

We are all in recovery…..

“You can kiss your family and friends goodbye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world, but a world lives in you.” Frederick Buechner

Yes indeed, even if they are gone from this world. Recovery seems to be a big issue now, there are reams of writings and data, and the library is filled with books on how to stop one bad habit and replace it with something healthier. I wonder, did anyone even say the word a century ago? I think mostly they were too tired at the end of the day to even wonder about the word, let alone the actual thing itself. I think of my grandma and grandpa coming to California, starting over after leaving their farm, animals (some of whom they thought of as friends), not to mention their little girl’s grave. If anyone needed recovery, certainly they did. But they just buckled down, worked hard, learned English as their second language, and carried on. I have grown up listening to the stories.

And I am proud to carry some of their DNA. I wonder, how much of those experiences have carried down through me, buried in my own DNA. I like to think there is a strength I have borrowed from them. There are also other things floating around, the not so good things. On my paternal Grandparents side there was alcoholism. My Grandpa recovered, my grandmother did not. I carry some of that DNA as well. I have battled my own love of alcohol with several come to Jesus moments over the years. Counselors say that we need to know our weaknesses, keep a journal. Write down when you want to drink, get angry, eat compulsively. I know one thing, addictions can kill body, mind and soul. They want to obliterate the best that God wants you to be. Paul says this:

O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord. So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin.” Romans 7:24,25 KJB

So, we are terminally ill without Jesus. You can read all the self-help books you want; and sometimes they do have their place but ultimately, they turn your mind inward and get you to focus more on yourself. What we need is something bigger than ourselves. I concede with the Apostle Paul that unless I have Jesus, who is the only one who truly never gave into temptation, I have limited success in this life and none in the next.

I am one of those people to whom a party is not good news. I immediately stress out in mixed groups. If there was alcohol served, I was slightly relieved. Then I made sure to have a drink before I left for good measure. Now, thanks be to Jesus, I still get anxious, but I pray instead.

As I do most times, before I got to sleep last night, I thanked God for the roof over my head and thought of those nearly under the freeway sleeping in the dirt in the midst of their own garbage. It’s epidemic here in California. It’s so easy to play the us versus them game. I am guilty of that. I wonder why able-bodied young men choose the streets and addiction rather than just getting a job. “But God,” I prayed, “Help me to not see them as just the sum of their parts. Not just people who steal and throw garbage everywhere, but people that have gone wrong.

Just like I’ve gone wrong so many times in my life. Just like we’ve all gone wrong. It would be so tragic is there was no remedy. But there is:

Hand Jesus your life. You will never regret it. Trade the band aid for the Cure. It’s not easy, but its effects have immediate and eternal ramifications. Message me if you want to know how. Believe me, I’ve been there.

“But thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 1 Corinthians 15:57 NLT

Too Much Information

We are all inundated with stuff, news, videos, images, voices and noise all day long. I think of the line from the old show Cheers:

“Making your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got. Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot, wouldn’t you like to get away….”

No wonder we need vacations, staycations, and every other kind of “cation” we can think of. The reason bars and pubs have been such popular hangouts down through the ages is because living is hard for the working class. That’s not to say that rich people don’t have stress, they just have a different kind of stress. They have endless options of things to look forward to. Propel themselves forward in different ways. They hire people to do some of the things that take up so much of the rest of our time, for instance. This is just a small example. This morning, I went to visit my 92-year-old Aunt. The refuse company took her garbage can today, just took the whole can. She called them and got someone from Arizona (we are in California) Hopefully, she will get a new can by next Friday.

Then, she got a letter from the utility company wanting her to reapply for the discount program she is signed up for. There were two full pages of small print for her to fill out. There was another sheaf of papers for her to fill out for her referral for the specialist she is supposed to see. It’s never-ending. Those kinds of things are what we (the masses) have to do on a daily basis. It’s not that hard for me, I can go online but imagine being 92 and never having used a computer or a smart phone.

It’s in these ordinary working, waking, sometimes exasperating moments of life where God can come quietly and give us that Supernatural Rest (click to open AI) with a capital “R.” And that’s very welcome news, because in those moments where you feel “stuck” that is comfort indeed. For me, nature has always been a conduit for God’s rest. Other ways for me are reading certain authors. A book I return to over and over again is Thomas Merton’s Book of Hours. Each Chapter is like breathing fresh air. Another is walking. Nothing untangles my mind like taking a walk. Sometimes I listen to Bach radio on Pandora and sometimes I just focus on sounds. Birds, lawnmowers, people talking.

This year I joined a Bible study which has rekindled my love for the Word and changed certain things in me that never would’ve happened without it. In answering some of the questions we are challenged to be brutally honest with others and ourselves. And when we sing the hymn before dismissal, I find the peace I used to know walking to church on summer evenings (that I never knew I had then, but I know it now.)

Whatever it is for you, find that thing and do it. Pray, seek God. If you can’t find the words to pray, just thank Him for all He’s given you. And most importantly, turn off the news! Have a splendid and wonderful Saturday, folks!

“My soul finds rest in God; from him comes my salvation; my soul finds rest in God; from Him comes my hope.” Psalm 62:1-2

To Hear You Breathe

I come in just about every morning and listen, listen. You don’t know it but I come in so I can hear you breathe. It makes me feel a peace inside, a calm assurance that you are here. Then, on the heels of that, I feel the sting and loss of what it would be like if you weren’t. Like a cavern it grows inside me from some dark place that remains hidden. It nips at my soul’s heels like a reminder of how fleeting it all is. This waking life. I feel the whole creation longing for redemption……release from the curse we’ve put on ourselves. 

Every blade, every leaf, every tree whispers it through the air. Animals and humans alike, desperate for food in a parched land, orphans aching for the mother they once knew. So much suffering. Everyone knows something has gone terribly wrong and everyone pitches in their two cents, wondering what the fix is. Because we are human, and we don’t give up so easily we use different and ingenious ways to patch up the gaping hole in our maimed creation.

We wait for the wrongs to be righted. Because we know they must. We see the heartache flashing across our screens, snapshots of someone else’s grief. Our minds scarcely have time to deal with what we just saw and then comes the next, worse than the first. We live in a world that breathes in life and death, and sometimes in the same moment.

You told me how you prayed for the chicks at the Farm store. That they would have a good life. Oh my gosh it makes me cry and think how wonderful you are. How blessed I am beyond measure to have you. How much easier life would be if everyone had a best friend to soften the blows of this life.

Each morning, I long for that quiet place where I can hear from God again. I seek it but can’t quite find it against the backdrop of noise. But there is this. When I open your Book, I am comforted once again. I open it and feel eternity, life, wholeness there. I cling to the hope and knowledge of its rightness, for in between its pages there is the breath of the Holy Spirit. I don’t even have to flip to the back, I know the ending.

No matter what happens in this life, God already completed the master stroke when He said, “IT is finished.” The “It” in this instance is everything. The whole long story from creation to the end of all things. 

Redemption for creation happened in one terrible magnificent instant, making all things new when He rose from the grave. Breaking chains of all kinds forever. The old dead oak standing in the field laughs and starts to bud, the cows run out of the gate to fresh grass, no more slaughterhouse for them. Thorns grow soft and bloom. No humans or animals wake with hunger pains ever again. We all eat kale, except Heaven’s kale will taste like nothing we’ve ever had before. No one kills or dies ever again. And contagious laughter will forever ring through the halls of Heaven.

And the little will chicks peep for joy. 

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” Revelation 21:3,4