Follow Me, I Don't Know Where I'm Going by Nicole Venzke Peterson

Author:Nicole Venzke Peterson [Peterson, Nicole Venzke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781973665908
Publisher: WestBow Press
Published: 2019-07-08T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Sightseeing

You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. - Jeremiah 29:13

Painted in sweeping vivid strokes, brilliant colors each distinct from the next, two complete arches visible from end to end. The rain that drenched our sweet soccer team, coaches, and fans on the night Tim died gave way to a breathtaking sight. A most impressive double rainbow graced the sky at dusk, awe inspiring with gray clouds in the background cut jaggedly by piercing, undaunted sunshine. As post after post, text after text, came through to us with pictures and comments of this phenomenon, it was decided unanimously this beautiful rainbow was created by God to announce Tim’s arrival in Heaven. A big, bright, friendly welcome for a super special new guy in the neighborhood. And so began our love affair with rainbows as our connection to the hope and promise of Heaven.

They showed up everywhere and all the time, more rainbows in a few months’ time than I had noticed in all the previous years of my life combined. Sunny skies without a hint of rain, or cloudy skies without a hint of sun, dawn or dusk, winter or summer, whatever the weather the rainbows appeared. Not only for us, but for so many who knew and loved Tim. As Gabby danced on the football field for her senior year parents’ night without her hero in the stands, as we rode in the airport shuttle nervous for our first family vacation without Daddy, as I walked out of work missing my favorite lunch date and carpool partner. On good days and bad, the only condition required was a heartfelt desire to find them. Sometimes gentle and unexpected, sometimes undeniable and yearning, a tug at the heart drew our eyes upward in search of what we were sure we’d find. A rainbow treasure, a bridge from our hearts to Heaven.

Outside Tim’s home office window at the country house, an occasional blue jay would capture his attention. Much to my annoyance and probably exactly because of it, Tim referred to them as his bluebirds, but they were most definitely not docile, elusive bluebirds. They were hostile, aggressive blue jays, beating up on other birds in the neighborhood. Beautiful, but mean and independent, they delighted Tim. In fact, I think he maybe preferred them because they were feisty loners.

As my sister drove up the long driveway of the country house on the day of the funeral, a flock of birds followed her. Enough of them for her to notice. Weird, she thought for a moment, but distracted by dread for the upcoming events of the day she paid little attention to where they flew. Inside as I obsessively sprayed Windex on the counter and polished it with my cleaning rag, a large flock of birds startled me as they flew past the window where my gaze was fixed. Weird, I thought for a moment, but carried on with my absent-minded cleaning. As Shelly walked

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