Today the boys, well, Josh and Sam, left to go commercial fishing. It was a stressful transition, the packing for an unknown adventure, recovering from overseas travel while walking through our first Father’s Day without Scott. It was a lot all at once, to say the least. 

Photo credit: Sam Blom

They boarded their plane with their gear and were quickly underway. And I was suddenly the only Blom in town. It’s not the first time this has happened with all the comings and goings of our family. But this one feels significant. It is a glimpse of the fall when they go to college. 

The view is not entirely accurate as Katie will be here with me, and she is not home now. It’s interesting because as I thought ahead to this time it was not with fear. I don’t mind some time alone. I relish it, actually. Quiet has become a friend when it used to be only something like a vitamin I knew I needed. God graciously used being married to an introvert to show me the value of being intentionally by myself. I am grateful that in that small way I am better prepared for this unexpected journey. 

I miss that introvert. We grew so much in our 21 years of marriage. I am thankful there was growth. I remember the old yearbook saying, “Don’t ever change!” I don’t think I’d wish that on anyone. I still have so much growing to do. Always will. Maybe that’s part of us that even follows us into eternity. More to learn and discover and once done with this part of life, the kind in this shell of a body, we can do it without sin getting in the way. That will be completely delightful. 

As I began writing I wasn’t even thinking about heaven, but as I follow my thoughts I wonder if our time on earth isn’t a “dry run” for heaven. It isn’t exactly as it will be, but I think the things I do now do have an impact on just how much I get to enjoy it then. I always marvel at that. Our time here, this dot in the scheme of forever has bearing on the life we’ll live when see Jesus face to face and know Him even as we are fully known. Oh what a glorious day that will be. 

I don’t expect the analogy carries all the way through to what my life will look like once school starts since in the picture I just painted it would be heaven, but I’m grateful for the reminder once again of the eternal weight of glory that is surely beyond my wildest imagination. The weight of the sorrow here seems to have a correlation to the greatness of then, so as the sorrow increases, so does the joy. One more grace to be in awe of.