as those who have hope

Yesterday I had to stop, waiting on a funeral procession to pass.

I don't know what made me so sentimental ... but something about the long string of cars touched my heart and I prayed for those who had lost someone as they passed.  There is something so solemn about that to me.  I still remember driving down country roads at my grandmother's funeral and seeing those who were respectful enough to pull over and wait.  I will never forget the fire trucks that stood watch both at the church and the cemetery when we buried my Grandfather. Beautiful in a way that three years later can still bring me to tears.

And as I've thought about that procession and reflected on this season of Lent, my heart went to the loss those followers must have felt in the days after Christ's death ... and even still, after His ascension.  I wrote yesterday about the blessing of family ... the beauty of it is the relationships that form us ... the heartache is facing the loss of that.  Sometimes that loss is death.  Other times it's distance, whether geographical or emotional.  Nevertheless, our hearts feel the closeness of relationships and mourn their loss when they are gone ... and even when they change.  I think it's part of the beauty.  To borrow from Winnie the Pooh, "How lucky I am to have something that makes saying good bye so hard."  Indeed, Pooh, indeed.

My heart is heavy today for some friends who are mourning ... mourning the loss of a parent, mourning the loss of a job, mourning the loss of a dream ... I'm thankful that no where does God tell us to buck up and get over it.  Nowhere does He say that grief is unnecessary or wrong.  He doesn't rebuke the disciples for being sad (and a little more than lost) that He is gone.  But, He does remind us that IN our grief to remember we do not grieve as those who have no hope.  (I Thes. 4:13).  We mourn the loss and are aware of the hole left in our hearts.  We weep.  We remember.  And we know that in spite of all of that, we will see them again.  We mourn the loss of a job, of the security of having an income, maybe even the joy of doing what we love ... but we know that even in that, we have the promise that God works all things for the good of those who love Him.  We mourn dreams that don't turn out as we had planned ... or hoped.  We shed some tears and say some prayers but know that nothing can separate us from the love He has for us.

Some days we mourn ... some seasons we grieve, but it doesn't stop with the funeral procession.  We know the grave is not the end.  If anything, Easter has taught us this.  It is necessary, but it is not the end.  So, because of this, we grieve, but not as those who have no hope.