As a child, the lesser gods towered over me. 

Mom. 

Dad. 

Grandmother. 

Grandfather.

It seemed as if from a very great height. 

But now only my parents remain. And I am the grandmother.

Sunday was the 85th birthday of one of my dearest friend’s mother. Over twenty years ago she invited me into her home to make mints and join in with annual garage sales. She went with us to Dallas for weekend mom trips, and enjoyed being with us. As we got older these turned into week long beach trips. She helped at my daughters’ weddings, baking mountains of cookies.

And her daughter was always honest about the hell she put her mom through before she was saved. Her mama would silently agree with a nod of the head.

And you could see the gratefulness for the gift she held most dear — God’s mercy in her daughter’s life.

I overhear her at the party reminding someone she has Lewy Body Dementia. But she is having a lucid day and I see her gratitude for the family and friends gathered around her.

His mercy and peace blanketing her in a quilt of His design.

My dad has lived with us two years today and I’ve been mulling how quickly this life passes.

And how the lesser gods should and do topple. As I climb warily amid their ruins I unearth the raw and precious jewel of my need for God. Not just for His mercy, but for Himself. Daily.

And beside this acknowledgement a small comforting assurance creeps out from among the rubble, climbs up into my arms, and burrows deep… life is but the prologue.

From Wikipedia:

A prologue or prolog (from Ancient Greek πρόλογος prólogos, from πρό pró, “before” and λόγος lógos, “word”) is an opening to a story that establishes the context and gives background details, often some earlier story that ties into the main one, and other miscellaneous information. The Ancient Greek word πρόλογος includes the modern meaning of prologue, but was of wider significance, more like the meaning of preface. The importance, therefore, of the prologue in Greek drama was very great; it sometimes almost took the place of a romance, to which, or to an episode in which, the play itself succeeded.

The prologue of what? The prologue to His eternity.

In that future place where our tears are wiped away and our sighs are comforted, will this wearisome season be seen for what it is? The great romance of His glorious jewel revealed — the precious mercy poured out on humanity through Calvary.

I think so. I think He will overshadow it all.