Why Me Why – Part 5
I’m not rightly sure how to conclude. So much more to say, but nothing seems adequate.
I think the hurt of loss is a sign of how much who or what we’ve lost meant to us; it’s the price we pay for having our loved ones. The price is so high because it’s worth it. Our friends and family are worth it. The hurt of struggling on and recovering if you’re given the chance is worth it. After you’ve been dead a time or two as Jeri was, or close to it as I’ve been, it’s really hard to have a bad day.
We’ve all lost loved ones before, but it never gets any easier. At this time, I’ll invite you to remember your lost loved ones. We carry memories of them and remember the way things were. Memories like this become firmly ensconced in a place of honor deep within the hallowed reaches of our souls. These memories flow in our veins for the rest of our days, until we slip the surly bonds of earth, and travel death’s uncharted paths, each one of us in our own time. With the upcoming Easter, it’s up to each of us to remember that when that time comes, we’ll rejoice and be reunited with our loved ones and those memories will once again become reality, in a place far greater than this.
I think it right and proper that I finish with the word of the Lord.
Some years ago, pastor Bob Wright introduced me to the 139th Psalm.
The Psalm begins with verses about how the Lord knows each of us, who we are, and what we think. He knows us as we’re created, how as unique individuals we’re knitted together by our Creator one by one, each of us with a specific purpose. The Psalm segues to verses referring to our ultimate destiny and the return of our bodies to the ash and dust of the earth and our living soul meeting and residing in the house of the Lord. In the middle of the Psalm though, verses 9 and 10 refer to the Lord’s presence with us; regardless of where we go, or whatever we do, we are not alone. It has the added benefit of paying homage to those of us who prefer to go to sea.
If I take the wings of the morning,
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;
Even there thy hand shall lead me,
and thy right hand shall hold me fast.
Ron Draper
The two most important days in anyone’s life are the day you’re born, and the day you find out why. (Mark Twain)
I’m not rightly sure how to conclude. So much more to say, but nothing seems adequate.
I think the hurt of loss is a sign of how much who or what we’ve lost meant to us; it’s the price we pay for having our loved ones. The price is so high because it’s worth it. Our friends and family are worth it. The hurt of struggling on and recovering if you’re given the chance is worth it. After you’ve been dead a time or two as Jeri was, or close to it as I’ve been, it’s really hard to have a bad day.
We’ve all lost loved ones before, but it never gets any easier. At this time, I’ll invite you to remember your lost loved ones. We carry memories of them and remember the way things were. Memories like this become firmly ensconced in a place of honor deep within the hallowed reaches of our souls. These memories flow in our veins for the rest of our days, until we slip the surly bonds of earth, and travel death’s uncharted paths, each one of us in our own time. With the upcoming Easter, it’s up to each of us to remember that when that time comes, we’ll rejoice and be reunited with our loved ones and those memories will once again become reality, in a place far greater than this.
I think it right and proper that I finish with the word of the Lord.
Some years ago, pastor Bob Wright introduced me to the 139th Psalm.
The Psalm begins with verses about how the Lord knows each of us, who we are, and what we think. He knows us as we’re created, how as unique individuals we’re knitted together by our Creator one by one, each of us with a specific purpose. The Psalm segues to verses referring to our ultimate destiny and the return of our bodies to the ash and dust of the earth and our living soul meeting and residing in the house of the Lord. In the middle of the Psalm though, verses 9 and 10 refer to the Lord’s presence with us; regardless of where we go, or whatever we do, we are not alone. It has the added benefit of paying homage to those of us who prefer to go to sea.
If I take the wings of the morning,
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;
Even there thy hand shall lead me,
and thy right hand shall hold me fast.
Ron Draper
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