Heavy

The hearse pulls up to the spot where the family will proceed to the grave site. When the funeral director opens the back of the hearse, he instructs the pallbearers to gather around to take the casket out. But just before that happens, he asks if the pallbearers want to use the cart provided by the cemetery or if they want to carry it.

The casket is sometimes very heavy even with six to eight people carrying it, so the cart is a welcome help.

But much of the time, they’d rather carry the casket, no matter the weight nor the distance to the grave.

There’s something symbolic about the weight of the casket and the walk to the grave. The burden of grief is powerful. Our hearts are heavy because of the loss of a loved one. Our emotions are heavy because this trip to the grave is the final good-bye for some.

The walk we take the rest of our lives, grieving heavily or lightly, is long. Every step we take without our loved ones is a reminder of the value of life.

Grief, as heavy as it is, brings. joy in memories.

Really.

Grief happens to those who have loved. Even though we are reminded of our love, the pain of loss is heavier than the casket and longer than the walk to the grave site.

But there is still hope. Jesus tells us why:

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

Numb

When I go to the dentist to have work done on my teeth, with the exception of a cleaning, I get a shot of Novocaine.  For about two hours, I don’t have any pain.  It starts out feeling pressure and then moves to a tingling sensation until finally, I get the feeling back in my mouth.  On another occasion, I got a shot to numb an area on my face.  And still several more times, my eyes have gotten drops to numb them for laser surgery.

Numb is good most of the time.  It helps us not feel physical pain.  But when we talk about numbness because of a tragedy, there is a dark side too.  If being numb means we don’t feel pain, that can be a blessing.  But otherwise, numbness can keep us from feeling anything.  We can’t think clearly, we are distracted, we sometimes … don’t care about much.

Numbness blocks memories too.  When grief runs deep, some people can’t remember the funerals of their loved ones.  The blurred memories usually never become clear.

How do we get the feelings back that so deeply desire?  The medicine wears off.  But it isn’t as simple as that with our emotions.  Perhaps we should do what David did after his infant son died.  We should get up and worship God (II Samuel 12).  Maybe we should recognize the presence of God and cry out to Him (Psalm 18:6).  God doesn’t reject our cries.

Will we ever get over being numb?  It can disappear in a short time… like Novocaine.  It can stay with us for a long time like a physical wound that is healing.  Eventually, we will feel again.  And we will still remember.

Broken Heart

Grief doesn’t just happen when someone we love dies. There are, perhaps, a hundred or more reasons we might grieve.

Here’s one. She fell “in like” with a guy who was charming and deceptive. She didn’t know that last thing yet. First impressions are usually really good when you’re trying to build a relationship, so anything negative is ignored. The smiles and laughs lasted awhile. Then the talks that led to minor disagreements and then to small arguments. The arguments turned into yelling. The yelling turned into physical and emotional abuse by him (note that it can happen the other way around, too, but not this time). She was miserable and scared. Scared that he would hurt her more if she told. Or left. After all, they were now in love. At least that’s what she told herself.

Long story short, she left. But she is still miserable because the scars left behind are a reminder of what should never have happened. Part of her was dead. And she grieved. Correction… she grieves.

The memories of this will remain, but healing can happen, and it should. Our God is an awesome God. He is our strength and our shield. He is our refuge when the storms rage. He is our hope. Her heart was broken, but God is the Healer of broken hearts.

By the way, everyone else grieves along with her, but our hope for life again presses on.

Loss and the Senses

I’ve heard it said that if one of our senses is diminished, the others are enhanced.  This is especially true with sight and sound.

I also think that all our senses (sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste) are enhanced when we lose someone we love.  Our hearts and minds want to remember everything we can.  Sometimes, the grief is so deep, we fight to grab hold of even the minor details.

Twenty years later, you meet someone who wears the same perfume your grandmother did.  You hear a song your best friend sang all the time.  You see a picture of your niece whose smile lit up the room.  You feel the smooth wood your dad planed and varnished.  You taste the best chocolate chip cookies since your mother made them. 

All those things remain treasures to you throughout the rest of your life.  It’s part of the story you tell to the next generations in your family.  In loss and grief, ALL our senses are enhanced.  That’s one way God blesses us.

Memories aren’t a poor substitute for the real thing.  In fact, memories help us rejoice a little more, even while we are grieving.  That seems a bit contradictory until we understand that grief means we truly love.  That makes sense. 

Why They ALL Matter

Since 1999, I have conducted about 1600 funerals. That is a lot, even for many preachers, to comprehend. One question I get is, “do you ever get used to it?” The answer is “no.” Now, I can conduct a service comfortably because I know families need something that will help them through their grief. Because I have done this for a long time, it has become easy. However, to get used to it would mean that I’m only going through the motions of doing a funeral, rather than taking the time to help people during their time of loss.

1600? Here are 10 things I have learned in all those years and with all those funerals:

1. Everyone grieves differently.
2. Not all who have died were loved.
3. Even if they weren’t loved, they were still “fearfully and wonderfully made” by our Eternal God.
4. There’s some laughter that happens at a funeral, because the deceased loved humor.
5. Telling a life story helps the family greatly.
6. People say things about Heaven that aren’t true, but the funeral is not the place for a debate.
7. Grief can be intense and last a very long time.
8. Family and friends need to talk about their loved one.
9. Not everyone prays, but just about everyone is grateful for prayer.
10. Some people mourn because they wished their relationship with their loved one had been better.

In all those years and all those funerals, everyone mattered to me. They always will. Did they matter so much that I preached them into Heaven? No. I was there to comfort the family and the host of friends in their time of loss. They matter, too. They ALL do.

Waiting

The suddenness of death is shocking and then painful.  But the lingering sickness just before death is nerve-wracking.  It has pain of its own.  By the time our loved ones have passed away, we are emotionally and physically drained.  We have watched with heartache how the disease or the stroke or the accident slowly takes away the life of our moms or dads or children.

Praying.  Crying.  Running.  Planning.  Living.  Not hungry.  Not sleeping.  Paying their bills.  Answering questions.  Busy/not busy.  Waiting.

We might even cry out, “How long, O Lord”.  Nobody wants them to suffer.  That’s why we might sometimes whisper in their ears, “It’s ok to let go.”  I’ve whispered in the ears of many, “Think Eternity.”  And “I love you.”  And then waited.

My hope is that I’m waiting for a recovery.  But if that isn’t to happen, then I’m waiting for their peace. 

Part of our grief begins before our loved ones die.  It’s that compassionate heart I mention often.  It’s often heavy and burdensome and bulky, really.  But we keep going, don’t we?  And sometimes, that lasts for the rest of our lives.  While we wait, we have God, our family, and our friends who help carry that same burden.  If we didn’t have them, our waiting would be much worse.

When Jesus waited several days before visiting his sick friend Lazarus, people complained.  By the time Jesus arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had died and was buried.  But Jesus knew there would be life again.  So He raised Lazarus from the dead.

Our hope is in the Lord.  Meanwhile, we wait for that Eternity.

Where There is Hope

“That’s messed up if that’s all there is.”

Those were the words from the son-in-law of the woman whose funeral I conducted today. My mind immediately went to the Scripture that says, “If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men the most pitiable.” (I Corinthians 15:19)

I’m convinced that this isn’t all there is. The young man was right. If this is all there is, that’s messed up. But God has had another plan for those who have given their lives to Him. It’s an Eternal place where we have a hope fulfilled. Here is what the Bible says about it:

“Now I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. Also there was no more sea. ² Then I, John, saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. ³ And I heard a loud voice from heaven saying, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people. God Himself will be with them and be their God. ⁴ And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:1-4

Actually, that doesn’t sound messed up. Instead, it gives me comfort for what is ahead. There are some who don’t have that same hope. It’s because they haven’t trusted that God is who He says He is. They don’t follow His commands. They don’t rejoice in His salvation. Therefore, there is no hope.

People grieve in different ways. The Bible tells us we can “weep with those who weep.” At the same time, we can “rejoice with those who rejoice.” (Romans 12:15) For the Christian, those two things, which seem to contradict one another, are important. Both are emotions of the heart. When God tells us we can weep, He’s indicating the purpose of a compassionate heart. To rejoice means we are excited about our loved ones place in Eternity. The Apostle Paul says, “We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.” (II Corinthians 5:8)

The hope Christians have for what happens beyond this life is magnificent! We will never have to ask, “Is this the only life we have to to look forward to?”

I don’t know everyone’s relationship with God. But sometimes I think I might. Other than some who have told me to my face that they are atheists and others who tell me they are Believers, I can’t tell who trusts that there is an Eternal Creator and Savior.

The Apostle Paul tries to show the Christians in Thessalonica that there is a different kind of understanding when people die. He assures them that the grief from Christians can be united with hope for those faithful who have gone before them.

“But I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope.” I Thessalonians 4:13

Yes, there is a grand Eternity in the presence of God for believers. If we rest on only this life without hope for another one with God, “that’s messed up.”

He Cried

When I called the woman’s father to talk about his daughter’s funeral, he was quite nice.  He was a soft-spoken man who spent a few minutes with me on the phone only to say “she was a perfect daughter.”  There was nothing else for him to say.  He didn’t know any of her hobbies or friends.  He wasn’t aware of her favorite foods or music or even if she went to church.

That’s because she had become a recluse with her boyfriend over the previous 10 years.  She was 70 years old when she died.

When I arrived at the funeral home, I met with the woman’s oldest son who also was very nice.  He said very matter-of-fact, “I really can’t tell you much about mom.  I’ve hardly seen her in the last 10 years.  Once she got with her boyfriend, she just stopped coming around.”  Her daughter told me the same thing.  The youngest did too.

The eulogy was very brief.  Many of them are.  But this was the one I had to add some “color” to the information I had just to let everyone know that this woman still had value in the eyes of God.

There were no tears at the service, but it wasn’t because she wasn’t loved.  They just didn’t flow.

At the cemetery, I read Scripture and prayed and thought the family would pick up and go home.  But, instead, the oldest son got up to say something else.  And he cried first.  And again.  He took a couple of deep breaths and started again.

“Life is short, as the pastor said.  We need to spend time together as a family before it’s too late.  We don’t know when we’ll take our last breath.”  Then he cried again.

He cried because he had lost his mother before she died.

The stories of life sometimes have the shortest chapters.  There’s not much information because no one knows what to say.  Yet, there still is a message here:  Value life.  Spend time together.  Ask the right questions.  Laugh. Love.  And then when the time comes, your eulogy won’t be a one-liner.

No Turning Back

In Ohio, the wishes of the spouse of the deceased take priority over anyone else, according to a Funeral Director.  At a most recent funeral, the spouse wanted an open casket while the mother of the deceased wanted it closed for the service.  The spouse refused.  Understandably, the mother was very upset and didn’t stay for the service.  It was not the first time I’ve seen a battle for “rights.”

From my perspective, I would have sought a compromise, but the end result might have been the same.  So feelings were hurt and the division in the family grew wider.  I’m not sure it will ever be healed.

Everyone grieves in his or her own way.  There are feelings of anger, dismay, loneliness, and empty feelings that don’t go away.  The mother was significantly distraught.  The spouse was, too.  But neither could come to a meeting of the minds.

Life is too short for that kind of thing.  It’s too short to argue over details of a funeral service, or an inheritance, or who gets a flag.

Life is so short, that before long, we have forgotten to say, “I love you” one last time.  Once the casket is closed, the family relationship may never be healed.  Some will look back and regret a decision and want reconciliation, but not everyone is up for that.  Egos have to be put aside for the sake of needed comfort and strength.  Anger toward another family member has to go away.

Once a decision is made like the one above, there is no turning back.  Hopefully, there will be a day that the two family members will reconcile.  Hopefully.

Transformation in a Short Time

The funeral I conducted tonight started out tense.  The family had gathered an hour before to speak informally about their loved one.  Two of the adult children and two grandchildren shared some thoughts.  Someone from the audience encouraged the family to “come together”, but the a grandson rejected the idea because he saw no use in it.  There was no yelling, no fights, and no one walked out.  But it was tense.

It was my turn then.  I immediately talked about the value and brevity of life.  I encouraged reconciliation.  God is the giver and sustainer of life and He prepares us for an eternity.  Our God loves us.  Because life is short, I told everyone that it might be best to tell each other “I love you.”

When it was time to pray, there weren’t too many dry eyes.  Afterwards, there were hugs and “I love you” for those that needed them.

It amazes me, but doesn’t surprise me, what the power of the presence of God will do to convict the heart in times like these.

It Isn’t Supposed to Happen Like This

At least, that’s what we think.

We are conditioned to believe that only the old die, so when the young die, we just don’t get it.  Children aren’t supposed to die before their parents.  Parents aren’t supposed to die in their 30’s or 40’s or 50’s.    We’re supposed to live into our 80’s or 90’s and peacefully die in our sleep.

But we know better and that’s hard.   It isn’t that we can’t ever face it, we just don’t want to.  Nobody does.

Psalm 39:4 says, “Lord, make me to know my end, And what is the measure of my days,
That I may know how frail I am.”

James 4:14 says, “whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.”

The hardest time anyone will ever have with the death of a loved one is not the brevity of life.  It will be a life without hope for eternal life.  Grief is real and it is necessary.  Yet, hope in Christ will give us strength through it.

Cherish the life God gave you, no matter how brief it might be.