And I Have Hope

imagesCANS8TKJDaily Prompt: Community Service

Your entire community — however you define that; your hometown, your neighborhood, your family, your colleagues — is guaranteed to read your blog tomorrow. Write the post you’d like them all to see.

A Walk In The Park

Imagine for a moment the dead coming back to life. Not in some zombiefied state, but vibrant, aware, and grateful to live again.

Imagine the person you were closest who died. Their presence made you secure, joyful, and complete. I do. It is my Dad I sometimes imagine in that state. It is so real and overpowering that I can hear his voice and feel his smile. It was a good smile he had.

I imagine a meeting that has been arranged for us. It is a quiet place; a bench awaits us beside a lake lined with the colors of fall. The peacefulness is interrupted only by a slight breeze that disturbs the leaves and they chatter like old ladies. A fish splashes close by. A deer bends down to lap-up a cool drink at the lakes shore.

My father sits on the bench and tosses pebbles into the water. He turns when he hears my feet wade through some fallen leaves.

“You’ve probably been waiting to see me for a long time,” he says.

“Fifty years,” I say.

We embrace and grasp the joy of our faces.

“There was so much I was wrong about,” he says. “There is so much more I need to know and learn.”

“All of us,” I say.

“Why did you pick this spot to meet?” he says.

“Remember the walks through the park in the fall,” I say.

“Yes,” he says. “They meant that much to you?”

“Yes,” I say. “Those were such good times.”

“I remember them too,” he says. “They meant a lot to me, but I never imagined them meaning so much to you.”

“Did you ever have walks like that with your father?” I ask.

“No,” Dad says. “And I regret that. I was too busy for my Dad, too busy being a big shot.”

“See there, Dad,” I say pointing to a path leading to us.

“Yes,” Dad says. “Who is that?”

“It is your Dad,” I say. “Why not take the time to have that walk with him and then we’ll all walk together.”

John 5:28, 29; “Do not marvel at this, because the hour is coming in which all those in the memorial tombs will hear his voice and come out, those who did good things to a resurrection of life, those who practiced vile things to a resurrection of judgment.”

Acts 24:15; “and I have hope toward God, which hope these men themselves also entertain, that there is going to be a resurrection of both the righteous and the unrighteous.”

Revelation 20:12, 13; “And I saw the dead, the great and the small, standing before the throne, and scrolls were opened. But another scroll was opened; it is the scroll of life. And the dead were judged out of those things written in the scrolls according to their deeds. And the sea gave up those dead in it, and death and the grave gave up those dead in them, and they were judged individually according to their deeds.”



  1. Thank you. I look forward to seeing my uncle Freddie who died at the tender age of 12 from defective heart and brain tumors. I remember standing at his bed in the living room and wondering why he would not get up and come out and play with me. And, of course, my Grandma Mary Belle, who cared for him and made the funeral arrangement along with small monthly payments to the local funeral home until it was paid in full. Grandma, Uncle Freddie, will you please come out and play with me?

  2. This one brought instant tears to my eyes. Not much more I’d like than to have my mom, dad, and sisters back for a visit. Just for a little while. Thank you for a lovely, thoughtful post.

Blather away, if you like.

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