Always remember that for each of us there will come a day when we too will smell the flowers and know we’re almost home. The closer we get, any kind of darkness here on earth – the depth of suffering it may represent, the difficulties that it may make us recall – will pale in comparison to the sweet aroma that will usher us into the presence of the One whose face we will clearly see. And when our eyes look into His face, we’ll realize that, compared to the surpassing excellence of seeing Him, nothing really mattered. That’s when our faith becomes sight.
And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight
The Clouds be rolled back as a scroll
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend
Even so, it is well with my soul
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