Monday, August 10, 2009

We Buried Our Friend's Body Today

At about 1330H today we put my friend's body in the ground, behind the church she and her husband had attended for more or less thirty years. It was almost seven days to the hour since she breathed her last and opened her eyes in eternity in the presence of another Friend who loved her before she loved Him.
There that body will lie until a short interruption when its Creator raises it again occupied once more by my friend albeit this time an incorruptible body, made like unto His, and along with His saints still in time, whose bodies shall be changed to be like His, and like my friend's, and like others countless before her, she and they shall ever be with their Friend, King, Lord, Savior, Redeemer, Kinsman, Shepherd.
I have the same hope.
And so does my wife.
I pray that my children will all have the same hope burning and nourished in their hearts, and all who are dear to me as well.
We buried her body today, and remembered her.
Kind words were spoken.
Loving words were tendered.
I called her WYSIWYG.
What You See Is What You Get.
Because that was exactly the only phrase to describe her, and her husband.
The second Sunday of November 1998 was when we first met them.
My wife and I had been looking for a home church, and the good Lord led us to this old, white, wooden church by the side of the highway, with a plaque describing it as having a history going way back to the 1700's.
We entered and the first thing I noticed was....."all white".
I turned to leave quietly, but my wife was blocking my way, and she pushed me towards the seat, this wife of mine who just trusts.
I don't just trust.
I did most of my growing up in mean streets and have learned that trust is a fragile word, and can hurt you, or kill you, and so by choice even now at 62 I do not have many that I call "friend".
But at the end of that service, and before the end of that day, we have been invited to this my friend's house and have eaten lunch with them, and she hovering around like a mother hen, making sure my wife and I and her husband had everything we needed, and her smile and her hugs were sooooooo warm, and a few more Sundays, a few more lunches, and I knew.
She was WYSIWYG : What You See, Is What You Get.
No pretenses, no make ups, no hidden agenda, no nothing but friendship, trust, love, and respect.
She calls her son, EVERYDAY, to make sure he was alright, to tell him they loved him, and her son is in his 60's.
Many times when we left church and moved to Buffalo, she called us just to say "hello", and leave a message in our answering machine that we were missed.
Her neighbors call her grandma, and her husband, grampa.
Their fridge was almost always all stocked up and overflowing with food, even the freezer, yet there were just two of them "old crows" in that house, because that food was for just about anybody hungry whom they welcomed into their home.
A mailman.
A mechanic.
A neighbor.
A plumber.
My heart goes out to my friend's husband.
They had been together for 64 years.
Done everything together.
Raised up a kid, now a man.
Lost a daughter, and buried her in the same church backyard.
They slept in the same bed, in the same room, those years.
They took care of a dog, a parakeet, an African grey, together.
They mowed their yard, kept it, and their neighbors', and took care of their neighbors' pets.

Together.

And now, she's gone.
Just memories.
Clothes in the closet, the smell of her on the bed, on the pillows and sheets.
Towels in the racks.
Food in the fridge.
Her cookbooks, her recipes in the computer, slippers on the floor.
Her body in that hole in that ground, topped with that tombstone.

But in his heart of heart, he knows, they will meet again, he will see her again, and he may weep for weeks and months, but eventually, that hope that burns in his heart, a Living Hope, will be his comfort, and his assurance.

Faith, the Bible says, is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

The God they love, and whom I love IS love.

Her insides all messed up, her legs broke, she would have suffered immeasurable pain had He allowed her to live.
He would have had a hard time taking care of all her needs, there just being two of them, even with those they love coming by.
They both would have been buried in debts and bills and all those things that make for living in this messed up, sin-laden world.
Taking her from him, He spared him all these, and with the faith that He Himself gifted them both, he KNOWS just as surely that he had her for 64 years, he will be with her again, for eternity, in a far, far, far better world.
Goodbye, again, my dear sister and friend.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Today A Friend Went Home

Death should never be a cause of grief for a child of God, but it is.

I have often told my wife that if I should fall very sick because of anything and the doctors say they need to put me in tubes to keep me breathing that she should tell the doctors, in the absence of a written will, that they are to remove those tubes and let me go home to be with the One who died for me, Him who loved me when I did not love Him, Jesus, the sweetest Name in the entire universe.

Today a friend of ours (my wife and myself) went home to be with the Lord.

She was 79, and leaves behind a son, a husband, a loving family, and a loving church.

When we first went to this church we attend and are members of, ten years ago, she and her husband were the first ones, right on the very first day of our attendance, who extended a warm hand of fellowship, welcome and love for us.

They invited us to their home, to sit down with them at dinner.

Two pairs of people, complete strangers to each other, feeling a kinship that transcends anything human, because we were bound by the love of an Eternal God who said our love for each other was how the world will know we were His children.

Since then we have visited with them countless times.

Dinner. Lunch. Snacks.

TV. Watch the Gaithers. Watch the Christmas Lights.

Drive around Maryland, visit the Amish folks, lessons in history all over Gettysburg, Antietam, Pennsylvania, Bull Run, Manassas.

And always this friend of ours was like a mother hen brooding and hovering over her little ones, if you could call a difference in years of 20 that, but that's exactly how she was, her strong West Virginia twang something my wife and I never mastered, sometimes sending us arguing about what she really said, but, no matter, her actions always said more than her words.

Even when I left the ministry, and the church, over some doctrinal and practical dispute, this couple and us remained the best of friends, their hugs and handshakes when we visited the church just as warm as if there had never been an issue, and there never was, really, come to think of it, between us.

Last Sunday, the 2nd of August, 2009, they had just come from church, having enjoyed the message a visiting minister had given, and since he was a deacon, they were the last to leave, and she was the one who closed the church doors, according to their present pastor.

They got on the highway, made a right towards home, past this restaurant that they had taken us to many times.

A really busy street, this was.

Vehicles turning left and right to either a Mc'Donald's or a 7-11 or a few Mexican restaurants, and our favorite restaurant, slowing down traffic from behind the turning cars, causing the more impatient ones to risk it and pass in full acceleration, when this vehicle came out of the restaurant they so often took us to, hit the car ahead of our friends' vehicle, then bounced off to hit our friends' car.

Perhaps it was the impact, could have thrown her up the seat because the seatbelt, designed to protect, broke her legs, and the airbag, also designed to protect, hit her so hard that the doctor, they said, had to rearrange her insides.

We didn't know about it till this morning, Tuesday, August 4, 2009.

Our pastor emailed us.

We went and visited at the hospital.

And she was laying there, this friend of ours, face all puffed up, tubes coming out of her body, breathing labored, heartbeat way high.

And her husband was there, and their son, and their grandson, and my wife and I looked at them, and we felt their pain, and felt theirloneliness, their sadness, and we shed our tears for them, and for her, our beloved friend.

Normally they wouldn't let you in to an ICU unit, but when they allowed everyone who wanted to visit in, in the back of my mind, I knew she will soon be gone, and the doctor, this young, compassionate, loving professional, came in, and took us all out the room, and in as gentle a way as he can, told us, we were going to lose her soon, the damage has been intensive, her age so advanced, the most modern of hospitals and the smartest of doctors just were no match.

We sang Amazing Grace, her favorite hymn, and said our prayers.

And my mind went back to that scene a long time ago, when the Creator of the Universe groaned in front of a cave holding His friend Lazarus' body, and He groaned, and the shortest verse in the Bible was written: Jesus wept.

Sometimes when I read that verse I wondered why He wept.

Wasn't He Omniscient ? Wasn't He Omnipresent ? In the future, as well as in the past, and in the present ?

Why weep, then ?

Now, looking at our friend, I thought about it again.

Could it be He was not weeping for Lazarus, but He was weeping for his friends, because without Him, none would see the other again, and this was not what He wanted for His people. He understood the pain they felt, the anguish they had, the sorrow they were going through, He understood, and understanding, He wept.

Sin had devastated His people, bringing death, corruption, separation, pain, loneliness, and soon He will bring sin to its knees, at the cross, and weeping shall turn to joy, and despair to hope.

I look at my friend again, and around at everybody, and see the numbers in those instruments going down, steadily and surely, and knew soon she will be with her Joy, her soul's Lover, her Creator, and I bent down and whispered to my wife to take note of the time she expires.

I don't know why that was important.

It just seemed so to me.

And I left the room.

She went home to her country, and mine, and my wife's, and her husband's, and the country of everyone bought by the blood of the Lamb of Glory, at 1445H, 2:45 in the afternoon.

By God's grace and mercy, she never felt the pain of her injuries, never having awaked from after the operation.

She left us peacefully.

Goodbye, Elizabeth, dear friend.

To your memory I dedicate this blog, and this song:

We Shall Sleep, But Not Forever

We shall sleep, but not forever,
There will be a glorious dawn!
We shall meet to part, no, never,
On the resurrection morn!
From the deepest cave of ocean,
From the desert and the plain,
From the valley and the mountain,
Countless throngs shall rise again.

Refrain

We shall sleep, but not forever,
There will be a glorious dawn!
We shall meet, to part, no, never,
On the resurrection morn!

When we see a precious blossom,
That we tended with such care,
Rudely taken from our bosom,
How our aching hearts despair!
Round its little grave we linger,
Till the setting sun is low,
Feeling all our hopes have perished,
With the flow’r we cherished so.

Refrain

We shall sleep, but not forever,
In the lone and silent grave:
Blessèd be the Lord that taketh,
Blessèd be the Lord that gave.
In the bright eternal city,
Death can never, never come!
In His own good time He’ll call us,

From our rest, to home, sweet home.