Ralph Powell passed away yesterday. He was 75 years old and had struggled with some serious health conditions during his life. He lost two children over the years and faithfully cared for his wife who has been, herself, of limited mobility.

Ralph is my uncle. I am saddened by his passing. Saddened for my widowed aunt. Saddened for my father and his siblings. Saddened for my uncle’s neighbors and friends.

Saddened in and for myself as his niece, however? Reading reflections posted by Aunt Jean, I wondered if I have a right to be. After all, the brother she described was the uncle I barely knew. We lived at least a few hours apart over the years. And apart from a handful visits in my childhood and a number of letters I sent him later on, I had no contact with this uncle who spent many hours with my father as a boy and young man.

Yet, while reading Aunt Jean’s words, I felt my heart tugging, wishing I could have known my uncle more. Known his serving heart, known his gifted eye for helping to beautify spaces and cultivate plants, known his industrally-trained mind.

Last night, as I drifted to sleep, I quieted my heart with the wondrous thought that I will see Uncle Ralph again. And we will be able to know and understand each other better than we ever could have known each other on Earth. Because we will be in the place where we are fully known and where we have all the time in…well, not in the world really, but all the time in Heaven.

We, as mankind, were made for forever. We long for forever. But the forever now awaiting us is not universal.

Many of us have spent countless dollars and hours pursuing activities, using products, and eating foods that might help us live longer. Death seems like an annoying marage, a shadowy threat, or an eludable rumor. We want to develop some technology or wonder drug that will help us remain young and healthy and mentally sharp forever.

Because we have forgotten the Creator who made us. The Father who loves us. The King we were designed to dwell with forever. Before we broke faith and law…before our souls fell down.

But our souls do not have to remain crushed forever. They can be lifted from the mire of brokenness by the arms of Christ and washed in the blood of Christ to regain the possibility of forever life (instead of forever death). Because the forever we all need and long for is the forever of honoring God and of fellowshiping with each other with no distance, shame, secrets, or grief between us.

My Uncle Ralph’s days on Earth were extended by modern medicine, his work on Earth helped many people, and his time on Earth blessed more people than it cursed. But the most important thing I know about him and will remember is that Uncle Ralph knew Jesus and trusted in God’s grace through Christ.

And so, I grieve but I also praise. The blessing of forever awaits us. I want my heart and my mind to stay fixed on that promise with anticipation.

I will see you there, Ralph Powell. Can’t wait to know you better. Until then, rest in peace, and be blessed.