Yesterday was mother’s day. Jenny lost her mother last year to a stroke, mine passed away about 10 years ago, the result of a fall. Yesterday was painful. But it wasn’t because of our mothers.
Yesterday our one-year-old granddaughter was dedicated at my son’s church.
Her mother died last November after a 14 month battle with cancer. Her daughter was born five months into that battle.
Both of the extended families live here. All but 5 were at the dedication, so 29 adults and children. The pastor charged the parents of the children and then the assembled congregation. He then invited those who wanted to pray for a family to come forward.
The first person at my son’s side was the senior pastor of the church. All 27 of the rest of us were next as well as a number of those who have been walking with my son through this past year and a half. I was in tears. Frankly, I had been most of the morning. So was most if not all of the 29.
After we went back to our seats. The pastor departed from what he was going to say to speak to my son’s situation. The church and many around the world prayed for the baby as her mother was getting chemotherapy. We prayed that the Lord would protect her from the effects of the chemo. So far, it looks as if that prayer was answered in the affirmative.
The pastor said she was a miracle. She is. But, in fact, all children are…
The pastor commented on the support my son is getting from both sides of the family. He is… He is also being supported by those in the med school and the practice where he is completing his fellowship.
All of us, the 34 in the family and those in the church body, know the truth. We know that my son’s wife is in the presence of the Lord. We know also that our current lives are a vapor. We know that soon, very soon, we will be with her. But more importantly, we know that we will be with the Lord.
We grieve, we deal with the abiding pain, but as Paul says in 1 Thessalonians 4:13 (here @ Bible Gateway), we grieve, we walk through the abiding pain, in hope. For, as Paul reminds us in 1 Thessalonians 4:14 (here @ Bible Gateway), this life is not the end.
It still hurts. We still weep. At times the ache is deep. But, the hope is real, the hope sustains.
Her mother died last November after a 14 month battle with cancer. Her daughter was born five months into that battle.
Both of the extended families live here. All but 5 were at the dedication, so 29 adults and children. The pastor charged the parents of the children and then the assembled congregation. He then invited those who wanted to pray for a family to come forward.
The first person at my son’s side was the senior pastor of the church. All 27 of the rest of us were next as well as a number of those who have been walking with my son through this past year and a half. I was in tears. Frankly, I had been most of the morning. So was most if not all of the 29.
After we went back to our seats. The pastor departed from what he was going to say to speak to my son’s situation. The church and many around the world prayed for the baby as her mother was getting chemotherapy. We prayed that the Lord would protect her from the effects of the chemo. So far, it looks as if that prayer was answered in the affirmative.
The pastor said she was a miracle. She is. But, in fact, all children are…
The pastor commented on the support my son is getting from both sides of the family. He is… He is also being supported by those in the med school and the practice where he is completing his fellowship.
All of us, the 34 in the family and those in the church body, know the truth. We know that my son’s wife is in the presence of the Lord. We know also that our current lives are a vapor. We know that soon, very soon, we will be with her. But more importantly, we know that we will be with the Lord.
We grieve, we deal with the abiding pain, but as Paul says in 1 Thessalonians 4:13 (here @ Bible Gateway), we grieve, we walk through the abiding pain, in hope. For, as Paul reminds us in 1 Thessalonians 4:14 (here @ Bible Gateway), this life is not the end.
It still hurts. We still weep. At times the ache is deep. But, the hope is real, the hope sustains.
No comments:
Post a Comment