"Choose Life"

"This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live"

--Deuteronomy 30:19

Today, was a bright, sunny but very, windy day. Family and friends dressed in traditional, black attire assembled on the unpaved, church grounds to say "farewell" to one of my first cousin's. As the funeral director called for "flower girls" to come to the front of the line, I happily obliged. I used to run from that "act of service," cause I was so short. I always imagined tripping down with the flower or experiencing some kind of catastrophic, humuliating moment. As the double doors swung open, I was astonished! It was the same familiar, white little, building from childhood memory, my families' home church. I couldn't believe it looked the same. The blue carpet, wood pews, and choir stand hadn't changed a bit. The only noticeable difference was the newer, brick dwelling that sat adjacent the sanctuary.

As we walked down the middle aisle to view the body, my hands were obsessively, trembling. I love the "boost" from caffeinated coffee on winter days, but the caffeine doesn't love me back. By the time, I reached the front of the church, my legs felt like spaghetti noodles, trying to support my full figure frame. When my teary-eyes landed on the silver coffin, reality set in. I don't care how far along you are on your spiritual journey, the initial grief is still shocking and painful. I know to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord, but the lump in your throat still swells.

All of the traditional, preliminaries went forth--prayer, scripture, singing and the reading of the obituary. In order for me to catch my breath, I was forced to temporarily "check out." I closed my eyes and started to feel sorry for my cousin. I thought about the fact that he never had children, among other things and my heart wept for him. I honestly thought about how life my have cheated him out of a few more memories. All I could thing about was "lack!" The things he never experienced. I didn't want to call attention to myself, but I hurried to the restroom. My emotions were all over the place. I planned to splash some water on my face to regroup, but I prayed instead. I prayed for God to grant my family strength to endure this loss right here, two days before Christmas. Also, I prayed that God bring my thoughts under subjection. As a Christian, I understand that this world is not our home, but when your family circle is broken, the mind and the heart are at odds.

I tuned out the choir. I didn't remember those songs anyway. All of a sudden, the building felt much smaller than I remembered. My grandmother's absence made the service seem surreal. Not only had my grandmother buried all five of her biological sons, but here was her second to the oldest grandson, transitioning home. I thought about Rickey's unique, special bond with grandma. He loved family. It made me sad to realize that my grandmother would never remember this day, due to the ugly effects of Alzheimers.

When Pastor Taybron stood up to give the eulogy, "Choose Life," it seemed like an answered prayer. I needed the distraction from my own, negative thoughts. As she read Deuteronomy 30:19, it appeared that God, himself, was speaking directly to the entire congregation. My sadness lightened. Actually, it shifted my thoughts from " tangible lacks" to the priceless gift he received. The gift that I pray- we all receive, the gift of eternal life. I know Rickey made the right choice. God reassured me of that.  Finally, I smiled. What actually felt like a loss to us was actually a gain for Rickey. God granted him favor from pain & suffering! I knew Ricky was in the best hands ever. I no longer sobbed, because it was indeed, a real celebration of life. A miracle before the miracle!

The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit.

--Proverbs 18:21