You Say “Goodbye,” God says, “Hello”

Last week while waiting to pick up our oldest daughter at the airport, I noticed that the security area for departures was only several yards from the arrivals area. I witnessed a young soldier’s brave good-byes as he held back tears, giving his wife one last hug---and then one more--- while she, teary eyed, finally let go even as she held hands with her sister or close female friend, slowly walking away, repeatedly looking back over her shoulder toward her husband, leaning with her every step on her companion. Almost simultaneously, only several feet from them, I witnessed a middle-aged couple greeting with open arms what appeared to be their teenage granddaughter. They embraced as if they hadn’t seen each other for a long time. All three were smiling broadly, interlocking arms as they walked away together. “Do you feel like getting a bite to eat?” I heard the grandmother ask the granddaughter, who coyly replied, “Sure.” The three floated on wings of joy.

Although they are only a few yards apart, the departure and arrival areas are separated by two worlds: hello and goodbye. As I anxiously anticipated seeing my daughter, I thought, “Next week I’ll be there on the departure side. My time of sadness will come.” Then in an instant I saw my daughter smiling (I nicknamed her “Smiles,” long ago) as she reached out to me for a welcome home hug.

Although I have no concrete evidence to prove it, I contend that the space between life and death---this side and the other side--- is a closer distance than that separating the departure and arrival sites at Louisville’s International Airport. And although we may not all be living dangerously, we are living on the edge, never knowing when our time of departure here will announce our arrival there.

Heaven may be closer than you or I think. While the New Testament Scriptures speak of heaven as a place, it is not limited to boundaries as we know them. For all we know, heaven could be in another realm of time and space, adjacent to us at this very moment, here where only this life separates us from that other place, that different dimension.

One passes through the departure area; another walks past the arrival gate. We say, “Goodbye,” Someone else says, “Hello.” Only a few steps and eternity separates the two worlds. A thin veneer of life appears to our time and space limited minds as a veritably indomitable wall, a barrier blocking us from a life we don’t know and often fear.

Five days later it was my time. Instead of being the happy greeter to a welcome home party, I was saying “Goodbye” to the daughter I would not see again until…until who knows? As my wife and I hugged and then waved bye, we had a longing for security in our hearts. We were saying “Goodbye,” but who would say “Hello?”

As I glanced back at the departure security check adjacent to the arrival area where people were leaving and arriving simultaneously, people oblivious to the others side’s presence, I was reminded that the God who is at our departure and arrival is also most aware of where we are at every point and moment in between, even when we can’t, and sometimes don’t want, to see it. The One who is waiting for us on the Other Side to welcome us home assures us of our safe arrival. In the instant we say, “Goodbye,” He is already there, saying, “Hello.”

Starting our car to leave the airport, I found a familiar and comforting security in that. I had heard it before, “I am with you always, even unto the end of the age.” We say “Goodbye,” even as He is saying, “Hello.”

That’s true for here and for there. For now and for then. Forever and for always.


Life Matters is written by David B.Whitlock, Ph.D. David’s email is drdavid@davidbwhitock.com. His website is DavidBWhitlock.com.