I'm not sure anyone ever sees it that way. We long to have our loved ones and friends with us till the end of our days. In the moments we are hurting and grieving, our faith tends to naturally come second. It's hard. We aren't ready to let go.
When I got the call last week, I wasn't prepared. My heart wasn't prepared to accept that my friend was gone. Even though I'd received every update, I struggled to believe my friend had gotten so sick and could possibly be gone.
As I walked into the sanctuary, I saw the casket. A soft blue casket adorned with pink flowers. Roses, tulips, sunflowers and a host of other flowers filled the pots and vases. It was simple and fresh.
The service began with a slideshow of her entire life. School, college, wedding, pregnant, babies, showers, they filled the screen. There were several with friends and times as an adult. There were even a few taken at our home.
I teared up as I watched. A life so full and so short. I found myself caught by her contagious smile and wishing I'd had one last moment with her. That was the person I remembered. I didn't see her at her sickest. The last time I saw her, I got the smile. Not the face affected by a stroke and altered by pain.
When the family walked in, my heart broke. I could see the numb and lost look in the eyes of the family. The pain I felt for them in that moment wasn't for the grief they felt that day. It was for the pain they would feel in her absence over the days, weeks and years to come.
Each person who spoke during the service painted a picture with their words. A picture of the beautiful, intelligent, faithful, loyal, humble, loving woman, the kind of picture you can see in your mind and feel in your heart. Each person in that room had been deeply impacted by her and the service reflected who she was.
We were reminded that no matter how deep and wide our love her is, Gods is even deeper and wider. God loves each of us far more than any love we could ever know on earth. We were reminded that there is comfort in Gods plan.
When she was diagnosed, everyone began praying for her healing. We must rejoice in Gods faithfulness to us in prayer. He answered those prayers. Not in the way or timing we would have chosen. We could find comfort that day in answered prayers.
As the service drew to a close, I watched the funeral home attendants approach the casket. I waited with tears for them to roll her out of the church. Much to my surprise, they removed the flowers and opened the casket. One by one, they dismissed the rows to walk past her.
I hadn't expected it. There she was. It wasn't what I wanted. I felt myself begin to cry. I don't mean tears down the cheeks, but heaving, can't breathe, tears coming so fast I can't see bawling. It was her but not. She was a shade of green or grey. My heart wanted to yell, someone please wake her up.
Making by, I could barely look. She was to my right, the family to my left. I didn't have the right to cry so hard in front of people who were going to feel her loss daily the rest of their lives. But as I saw the colored page laid at her hands by one of the children, I couldn't hold back my emotion. The walk from the casket to the foyer was a blur.
Standing in the foyer, I found comfort in the hugs of friends. Lots of unspoken words were shared with tearful hugs.
At the graveyard, I couldn't bring myself to get near the casket. It was too real, too final.
As a Christian, I should have been more joyful. My friend is healed. She is healed and in her eternal home. She's in a place where there is no concept of time. She will be reunited with those who love her and believe in God sooner than we can imagine.
It's hard to assimilate things when they happen so fast. It's going to take some time for this to not feel surreal.
I do miss her already. She wasn't an everyday part of my life, but I loved her. She was a part of my life and I will miss her for a long time to come.
No comments:
Post a Comment