(Warning!!) No despair here...

...at least not over this. Sorrow and loss, yes, but no despair here. 

Our worship yesterday was so evocative for me, and for my boy. The pre-sermon hymn was "Be Still, My Soul" which formerly was #1 on my funeral hymn list. It was bumped down to third place by "Jerusalem the Golden" and "In Christ Alone". When Kathy R. was our organist, she would often play the hymn for pre- or post-service music, and give me a wink. She knew how to pluck my heart strings.

(A couple weeks ago, before we sang a hymn, I leaned over and whispered to Mike S. how much I loved this hymn. Twila and Jean, seated behind us, heard this and chuckled, knowing my list of favorites is extensive!)

The Gospel reading was from Luke, the story of Jesus' giving life back to the widow's son. "His heart ached for her..." Oh yes, it does! He knows every emotion we feel, having experienced that same grief Himself when He became fully human. "When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, “Don’t cry.”" Luke 7:13  Pastor used a Greek word---splanchnizomai---which meant Jesus 'hurt deeply for her'. And brought her deceased son back to life for his mother.

Pastor's sermon was based on this lesson and hit very close to home. He talked about the grief of having someone near to us die 'an untimely death'...an operation gone bad, sudden illness, or a tragic accident. It is not our time, but His timing. 

Pastor mentioned the public grieving the parents showed after the shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary, and of those who lost children in the collapsed school in Moore, OK recently. Seeing these parents suffering might trigger our own memories of personal losses experienced in 'untimely deaths'. Whoooo, tough one!

He also mentioned the comfort of hugs, gestures of kindness, the sympathetic   (my phrasing here) tears from others in our loss, and the comfort we have knowing Christ understands our sorrow so well. 

Then, Pastor mentioned the preschool graduation of last week, and the conversation he had with one of the dads. The dad shared the plans for the coming summer, how his two children were going to visit their grandparents and spend time with extended family, and just enjoy themselves all summer long. Pastor wanted us to imagine all the precious memories they will be making. 

Then, we should imagine (consider it done!) what their lives would be like if one or both of the kids suffered an untimely death---the missed birthdays, the empty place at the table (that's my addition to the list), or a holiday celebrated minus that child. At this point Justin leaned over and asked me, "Is he doing this on purpose?" Justin's heart was aching, too. His own loss of his brother and the grim reminders to his mother. I just love that guy!

The sermon, of which I have a copy, goes on to mention how we will all meet again, 'caught up in the skies', all seated around the table at the heavenly banquet, every seat filled (my words again), a closeness with our Father which far surpasses any earthly closeness. Eternity in heaven, we long for that!

                          

After the sermon, as I was all mopped up, Twila put her hand on my shoulder, as she knew what we felt like, me more outwardly than Justin. When the service was over and we waited to be ushered out, all three ladies behind us were hugging our shoulders and telling us how much they loved us. Just as I had my tears mopped up.... 

Once outside, exiting via the side door with Justin, Kristi sought me out. She said she just had to give me a hug, "after that hymn (she knows it's my favorite) and that sermon....." As I told Linda later, I have the best friends, and I love them, too! 

It's hard to accept or comprehend that this sermon was right for everyone, not only me (us), and that I am certainly NOT the only person who has suffered a loss, an untimely death. Perhaps it's because my little boy was so much a part of the congregation or something, that it is personal to all of them. My older friends have lost their parents, and some have lost their spouses (like the widow in the lesson), and others have had to bury children as adults. But somehow the loss of a child is that much more, for lack of another word, profound, bringing home the fact that we are all vulnerable and have our days numbered. 

When Sterling came out of church, I thanked him for playing 'my hymn' for us that day, on the piano. He is not skilled in the same way Robbie is, but does a very good job of it. Anyway, he said, "You're welcome..." sheepishly, and then told me I had a black speck on my cheek. If that's all I had there, that would be a good day! I told him it was probably mascara as I had wept in church and he said, "Oh, I try not to..." He is such a dear!! I hope when he gets orders the next time, it keeps him at NASJAX. He is a blessing to our congregation and our worship.

                                            

Friday at Happy Hour at the pool, Kathy was telling about a cobalt blue glass piece she has in her collection. She said she thinks me of every time she looks at it. The shape is a tear drop, gotten in the Middle East, and is a vessel for collecting tears. It moved me so to have her tell me this. Cobalt blue is my favorite glass color, as she knows well, and the fact that her piece would collect tears puts it over the top. It would be over the top full if it collected my tears yesterday. Whew! My glass only collects dust!