The funeral director quietly asked if we’d like to view the body. At my nod, she led me to the open door at the back of the room.
“Take all the time you need.”
Rows of chairs lined either side of the room with a narrow aisle leading to the open casket at the front.
It looked so small.
I tentatively walked forward. At first glance, I thought she looked like a baby doll.
The child I looked upon was a shell of my granddaughter. A body with no spirit.
Her petite body was in the room with me. Her spirit was ushered immediately into the presence of God upon her death.
Absent from the body, present with the Lord.
I miss her body. I miss her spirit. I miss her.
But I find comfort in knowing that she is with Jesus. And one day, I will be too.
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