My college sorority sisters and I are organizing our annual reunion, our time to catch up on each other’s’ lives.  It is not going well.  Diana lives in Tulsa.  Keller lives in Indianapolis.  Dizzy lives in Florida.  Colleen and Cathy live in K.C.  And I live in Fort Scott. 

 Where we live is only part of the problem.  Diana is wheel-chair bound since taking prescribed medicine that caused her muscles to atrophy.  Keller fell through ice last winter while helping a neighbor, and the pins, plates and screws holding her foot together keep her in constant pain.  Dizzy has medical issues and lives on a fixed income.  Colleen’s husband retired and they have planned many trips–granted, a “problem” we all would like to have.  Cathy owns a company that suffered with COVID, so recovering has made it hard for her to take time off.  I just do as I am told.  (Um-hmmm…)                                                                                                                  

Our texting correspondence to pick viable dates shows the difficulty we are having. After   dozens of “I’m watching my grandkids then,” or “Flights are too expensive on those dates,” or “I have glaucoma surgery scheduled that week,” or “If we meet up at my house, I’ll send my husband to stay with one of the kids but I have to know soon,” or “What if we take two trips, one to Keller’s and one to Diana’s and stay only three days at each place?” or “Why isn’t Cathy responding to these texts?” or…you get the point.                                                                       

Planning our annual reunion always is difficult because just as soon as we think we agree on the dates, one of the girls has a change in her plans, and we start over. Still, we keep at it because we know that memories will be made and friendships solidified. Plus, there will be stories to share with anyone who’s interested (typically, no one) when we return home.                         

Mark 9:2-9 speaks to a special reunion, one which blows away our girls’ trips. Jesus invited his best friends, Peter, James and John, to join him for a mountaintop getaway.  With no warning, they were joined by Elijah (deceased for 900 years) and Moses (deceased for around 1600 years).  The excitable, terrified Peter did what he always does: chatter.  Why, they could make three tents and camp out there. How fun!                                                                            

God, speaking from a cloud, silenced Peter.  “This is my beloved son; listen to him.” (In other words, “Zip it, Peter!”) And with that, Elijah and Moses disappeared.                                            

Can you imagine what that must have been like? Did James and John rip Peter’s head off for causing this momentous reunion to end far too soon?  Or did that not matter because Jesus’ friends were so eager to share with their family and friends what they had just witnessed, albeit for only a short time?                                                                                                              

I imagine they were beside themselves to blab, but as they descended the mountain, Jesus told them not to tell anyone what they had seen “until the Son of Man had risen from the dead.”  WHAT?  Who could possibly keep that event to him/herself? Surely part of the thrill was reliving it, right?  I would be a crazy woman if I couldn’t tell my best friends what I had just witnessed (which, if the cliché “Three people can keep a secret only when two are dead” is true, this story would be passed on to everyone I knew before the day was over).                                          

The best thing about the reunion God is planning for us is that we don’t have to pick the dates or the place or who joins us. That is all determined once we ask Jesus to be our Lord and Savior.  Should we die before Jesus returns, our last breath here on earth will be on first one in Heaven.  Talk about a reunion! There won’t be anything we can’t share.                             

Personally, that makes me very happy.