Life is a gift

Today we attended the funeral for the church member who suddenly died last weekend, from a blood clot to the heart. His dear widow wept through the service; he was her life, and at 65, it will be difficult for her to start over. It was a fine service, officiated by my older brother, who has been mentioned in my blog numerous times. His first funeral to preside over. I’m sure it broke his heart to do it, but he spoke well, and spoke sincerely. He was there when this man was accepted Christ as Savior and was baptized, not all that long ago...was there when each of them had various illnesses requiring hospitalization...and was there when this man passed from this earth into his eternity.

It is a sobering thing, to attend a funeral. My first, in quite some time, that wasn’t for a relative. My last funeral was for my cousin (see tags in sidebar), gone now for almost 2 years. Unbelievably. Today, when I stepped beside the casket to view the man, all I could see was my cousin. They were close in age, both with graying beards and long lashes. I wasn’t able to look for more than a second today—tears came fast and unexpectedly, in the wake of my cousin’s memory. But even throughout the funeral, I found myself shedding tears; I realize that the man is better off now, with His Lord, away from the sorrows of earth. But the grief and shock he leaves behind; the emptiness his widow is feeling (although she will lean heavily on Our Lord), it is heart-wrenching, and difficult to understand. Why did it have to happen to this man, to his wife? She is a dear and sensitive lady, but her life has already been filled with pain and difficulty. Why couldn’t she have him at her side for the remainder of her years? It breaks my heart to see her alone, without him beside her, where he has always been since they joined our small Body. I guess these questions are the same we all ask...it is in these questions that the greatest pain of death lies. For even when we know our loved one is with Our Lord, we still grieve. But not for them, as much as for ourselves. We grieve our loss, we feel our emptiness, we miss our beloved one. We grieve for all they left behind; knowing deep inside, that what they go to is far greater. Death, just like life, is full of contradiction, isn’t it?

I remember Beverly's husband and children this week; and other family members who grieve for her. Another dear one whom we rejoice for, as she is at last, cancer-free; and with her Savior. Yet, she leaves behind a hole. A big one. Older children; one with a family, one starting college...and sons still at home, even young boys in elementary school. A loving husband, who is now, suddenly, thrust into single parenthood, and widowed, simultaneously. Another paradox; joy for her, but sorrow for those who carry on without her. I cannot wish her back, for truly, she is in a glorious eternity...but yet...I cannot wish her gone, for her family needs her still.

This week has been too full of death. Yet we all face it; none of us will escape it, until Our Lord returns. We do not know the moment we will meet with Him for eternity; every moment on earth is a gift. Life is a gift. Yet a greater gift lies beyond. Hard to imagine though; for we learn to dearly love what surrounds us here, even among such a tarnished earth; such a life filled with hardship and pain. We still find love, we find happiness, and if we will trust in Jesus, we find peace, hope, and lasting joy. And so we treasure this gift of life, and we fight to hold onto it. We fight to stay with those we love. And we grieve when the fight is lost by one of our own.

I am thankful this week, to still have those near and dear to me. I am thankful that while I ache for those who have lost loved ones, I am not one of them. Not this time. I am reminded to take every day as it comes. To look for moments of life’s joy, in the midst of struggles. To hug my children and be thankful for them, even in frustration! To hug my husband and be thankful for his life, his support, his presence with us. To remember that life is, indeed, a gift.