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All Things New


I have mostly put away Makiah’s toys, but the doll house her daddy and I made her from a special, old cabinet that once belonged to her great grandmother still sits in Maddie Grace’s closet.  It has pretty glass doors that close across the front embracing the scene inside. I carefully tied the silver handles together with ribbon when she left us, and some things deep inside were tied up that day, too.  Every little piece of her tiny house sits just the way she left it the last time she cleaned up her room.  I don’t intend to keep it locked away forever.  But I just haven’t been ready to open it up.  It takes time to unlock a house.  And a heart. 

Today I accidentally left the closet door open.  The dainty glass doors don’t cover the attic of the little house.  Sometimes we forget to lock ourselves all away.  We leave a piece exposed and vulnerable.  Sometimes someone notices it like my Abby who never misses ANYTHING!  She emerged from the baby’s room carrying Makiah’s little plastic dog that lived in the attic.  She clutched it tight to her chest all day.  Didn’t put it down at all except to eat and even then she placed it carefully on the table of her high chair under her watchful eye. 

And sometimes we realize He is holding that part we forgot to lock away.  And He is clutching that part of our hearts close to His chest.  Never letting our treasured thoughts escape His watchful eye.

Tonight Abby is still holding Makiah’s dog close.  She and her sister are smelling sweet and baby fresh from a bubble bath.  The music in our living room is softly lulling little eyes to half mast.  The light from the dim lamp cascades into the darkness.   Of the room and the hearts.  Barely.   Alena is twirling around the shadows in pink fairy wings and declaring that she is “Tinka Bew.”  Makiah’s pink fairy wings.  We are singing with the worshipers on the TV.  “You are making all things new.”  Their daddy is giving kisses like our Daddy gives breaths.  “We come alive.  You are making all things new.” The girls land near their daddy on the floor and become one big pile of snuggles.  “You make all things new.  We are free.  We are free.” 

And then I realize it.  This isn’t just a random song.  I am seeing it played out.  It is real.  It is true.  It is called M.I.R.A.C.L.E.  This life in this dim room.  This worship coming from lips that were once frozen.  These toys dug out of the closet where they were locked away from laughter and love.

And I feel that it’s true what Jesus said.  When He arrived at the man’s house, they told him it was too late.  The little girl was dead.  Jesus said she is not dead but sleeping.  They mocked him.  Until he raised the dead.   

I never understood why He said that.  Why did He say she was sleeping?  Because we who mourn can know that it is as if they are only sleeping.  They are not here with us.  But they are not gone forever.  They have not ceased to exist.  We are separated, but the barrier is thinner than we might think.  The time may seem to creep by with all the aching, but we will look back on it as the blinking of an eye.  And even in the slow, painful seconds, He is making all things new.  He is carefully holding the broken, hidden places to His chest.  And He is breathing out life like a daddy blows out kisses.  Because ultimately he has made us free from death.  And free from the chains.  And He is making all things new.  Until the day when He will raise the dead!


  All Things New @ Elevation Church











Makiah's surprise when she got the doll house for her 3rd birthday.

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