Saying Good Bye

Isn’t it interesting that it’s often easier to be the one leaving rather than be the one left behind? There’s just something about that bitter, oft times, all-consuming feeling of loneliness that occurs in the wake of another person’s absence that’s enough to soften the shell of even the most rugged exterior. Few experiences can carry the same flood of raw emotion as that of missing someone; to have a desire to be with another, to see his or her face, to touch his or her hand, yet not have the ability--whether separated by physical distance or physical death.

As I read through Acts 1:1-9, I asked God to help me read between the lines and see something in the text that I had never considered in the past. I didn’t want to feel the way I would “expect” to feel; joy at the ascension of Jesus to the right hand of God, or excitement for the Holy Spirit; I wanted to experience the emotions I would feel if I were standing there on the mountain watching my Savior leave me behind.

I began to think about the people most prevalent in the last sixty or so days of Jesus during His time on earth. They spent precious moments with this incredible Man; the Son of Almighty God, the Great Healer, the Alpha and Omega. They sought His counsel and watched Him perform miracle after miracle for those society had deemed unworthy. They stood in the presence of His greatness and power and in helplessness as they watched Him suffer and die on a cross for them. They mourned His death and grieved for His absence. And they were, no doubt. astounded by His resurrection.

For forty days following His resurrection, they knew He would leave them again and during these forty days, He revealed to them the tools they would need after His ascension. He would leave them with everything they needed to carry on His Great Commission without His physical presence; though He promised there would be One to take His place--the Holy Spirit. But I can’t help but wonder about what these people really felt. These men and women had touched the face of God, they had taken their meals with Him, walked with Him, and experienced time with Him in physical form that no living man or woman has experienced since then. And yet He would soon leave them behind.

I wonder how they felt as they stood in those last few moments on the mountain with Him. Did they feel as we feel when we’re about to lose someone so dear to us that we can’t imagine an existence without him or her? Did they try to memorize the lines of His face, the exact color of His eyes, the way He stood, His mannerisms? Did they hang on His words to play back his voice in their minds? Were they tempted by their imperfect human emotions to beg Him to remain just a moment longer so that they may drink in His fragrance? Did they want to cast aside their selflessness for a moment to just lean on Him one more time?

And after His ascension, were they left with the bitter emptiness of having lost a loved one? I would imagine that without ever having experienced the Holy Spirit one would be rather unbelieving of the comfort His presence can afford. Did they doubt that this intangible Spirit, this invisible Being could offer them the same comfort and help as the Living God in the flesh? Were they as inconsolable as I would have been if faced with the sadness of watching my Savior physically leave me behind?

As I can’t imagine a day without the Holy Spirit’s presence in my life and without the ability to call out to God, speaking with Him and seeking His help, I can’t imagine what it would have been like to give Him up in His physical form and cling to something intangible, something that I could only see through the eyes of faith. I wonder if over time they didn’t feel as I feel now; I wouldn’t trade that “something” for anything in this world, not even a moment with Him in person, and I’m thankful that I never have to.