Welcome Home, Samantha

I picture heaven quiet for a moment
when you arrived—
not silent from absence,
but from holiness.

And God was there.
Not distant.
Not angry.
Waiting.

I imagine His eyes full of love,
the kind that sees every hurt
you carried longer than anyone knew.
The kind that knows the battle
before the choice was made.

And I believe He spoke gently—
truth wrapped in grace:

“Daughter, this was not My desire for you.
This path was never what I wanted.”

But then—oh then—
His arms were already open.
“Still, you are Mine.
You are loved.
You are safe now.
Welcome home.”

No condemnation.
No turning away.
Only a Father who hates the pain
but never rejects His child.

I hold onto this, Lord,
when my heart tries to break again.
That disappointment did not cancel love.
That truth did not erase mercy.

Samantha was not lost to You.
She was received.
Known.
Held.

And while I walk this earth missing her,
I rest in this holy hope:
that heaven gained her,
and You did not let her go alone.

One day, You will say the same to me.
Until then,
I trust the God who tells the truth
and loves without end.