Looking out for something more

I want to feel safe and secure, but I am sentenced to life on this earth.  How can you ever feel safe and secure with such a sentence, unless you have some kind of investment elsewhere?  But, really, while you are on this earth, how can you ever really truly trust in some kind of external investment?  I read a passage in Revelation last night, of the New Jerusalem descending.  The old heaven and the old earth passing away.  God wipes every tear from our eyes.  He WIPES away our tears.  He doesn’t just stop our crying.  He actually stoops down, brushes our bangs aside, and slides his gentle, calloused finger across our wet cheek. He wipes our tears away.  What a God.  In light of this magnificent new Jerusalem’s condescention, God intentionally takes our grief-stricken faces in His huge hands….but He makes His hands just small enough to fit our chins in his palms.  Is there really hope in this?  Will he really wipe our tears away?  Is this just allegory?  Oh God, I hope not.  Greater than the fear of losing my child is the fear that none of these promises are true.  If this is all that there is, then I am lost.  Because these short years are vapor.  I am vapor. Jordan is vapor. Lily is vapor.  My goals, accomplishments, dreams, are nothing.  How does one live in this wrenching insecurity?  What of value lasts?  When someone enters this world, who, if departed, would take my heart with her, how do I live in the unknown?  Oh, God, please be the God that you claim to be.  Let us not have created you out of nothing.  Please be the One who created us.  Let there be something greater than us in existence.   Let there be One who no eye has yet seen. Please let these pleas not be to an empty computer, but to One who really does live outside of time and space.  And if you will, somehow, give me a clue, or an impression, or a taste of your eternal glory on which I can lean until I know for sure.