Joy Comes in the Mourning

July 8, 2015

Ecclesiastes 3:4 talks about it: "...a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance..." Romans 12:15 tells us to "mourn with those who mourn." "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." Matthew wrote that in chapter 5 verse 4. Lastly, if you will pardon my play on words, in Psalm 30:5 we are told that "weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the mourning."

Not last night but the night before, Steve talked to two of Clyde's siblings. They had called to check on his latest physical problems and truthfully, we just don't keep in touch with them much. In the past, word would come from Clyde about how his brothers and sisters were and it would be passed from him to us or Pooky. Distance does that to folks, you know. It makes you aware of others' conditions but not always in a firsthand manner.

Anyways, they both were poignant experiences. Have you ever heard a loved one in a relative's voice? Have you ever been reminded of that loved one by another's mannerisms? Me too. Kinda hurts a little, doesn't it, as we recall the quirks and habits and expressions that unite us and label us as members of a certain family? I recall once a distant cousin of mine telling me I was "such a Briggs" during a class we were taking. I was stunned because even though that was my last name and there were many relatives that had made that surname one that was common, I honestly had not been exposed much to that side of the family so to be told I had characteristics that made me like them was surprising to me.

On Saturday, some of us gals from church are going to get together to do some crafts, cooking, and chatting. Ever since my latest grandson was born, I have seen the resemblance of him to my brother. You know how you try to say a baby looks like his mom or her dad or another family member? Well, Baby G has reminded me of Billy for the past eight months or so of his life and I must say, it's painful. Hmn. That's not quite the right word. Maybe it will come to me. Anyways, my plan is to do a spread of Billy and my gson, marking the resemblances and noting how I miss "Billy the Kid." Maybe I'll share that with you when it's done.

When Clyde passed, his funeral was to take place on the coldest day of the year. A huge winter storm had been brewing and we asked friends and family to not attend because it was just too dangerous. They heeded our advice and the funeral--which had to be delayed a day because the roads were impassable--took place with myself, Steve, Pook's family, Clyde's sister-in-law and her husband, and one other family friend. Add the two men from the funeral home and that was it. We had no pastor, no singing, no reminiscing over what a great man Clyde had been. In fact, the temperature and the wind made it nearly impossible for even Steve to say more than a few words about his dad and the ceremony was over within ten minutes.

{Sidebar: I know this in a long blog but I do have a point to it. I hope you'll stay with me because my point is one that I think we all need to pay attention to.}

When my dad passed, I had been shunned by most of my family the day after he died. A month later when my sister Mary left us, the wounds were still too raw for me to participate with them in my grief and share it with the others. Then, a few months later when my beloved grandmother succumbed, there was still too much hostility for me to be able to join with the family and be a part of her passing. A couple years later, when my favorite aunt unexpectedly died, there was almost a time of sharing this pain with my mom (her sister) until the next day when the others showed up and I was back to being shunned again. Lastly, when Momma lost her fight to cancer nearly three years ago, I was about as alienated as one could be. To sum that all up, there was no time of mourning with others to express the loss I felt.

Sigh.

Combine Steve's loss of his dad and my losses of the past seven years and sometimes it just hits one: we hurt. We miss. We ache. We have memories to share, stories to tell, secrets to expose but sadly--other than with each other--we have mostly had to mourn alone. Solomon was prophetic indeed when he said there was a time to do this. Ours just hasn't come full circle yet.

Clyde's family had wanted to get together with us in the spring to celebrate him but it didn't happen. Life gets in the way of death far too often. A fall meeting is tentatively planned but I am not holding much stock in this. No offense but we all know how these things go. Schedules get conflicted; health interferes. Weather wreaks havoc. There just isn't time.

And that's my point (finally, you say!). There is supposed to be a time to do all things under the heavens. There is supposed to be time to weep, to dance, to rejoice, to sing, to laugh, to cry, to live, and to die. When did we stop making the time--taking the time--to live? When did we peoples get so busy we cannot do the simple things in life, the things that require nothing more than just letting the world stop for a little bit while we gather together--together!!--to celebrate life's highs and lows? It matters.

Today, my prayer for you--and me--is that we will slow down. Stop and smell the roses. Pick a few. Take them to another soul and spend a few minutes with her/him and see how s/he's doing. If s/he needs to talk, listen. If s/he has a joke, laugh at it. If s/he needs to cry, cry with her/him. Yeah, the stories might be old ones and you may have even heard them before. But in that person's mind, that memory is one that affects the life led and surely we can have patience to honor that for just a couple of minutes, right? It matters.

Ephesians 4:32 tells us to be kind one to another, to be tenderhearted. The Bible also teaches us that we will reap what we sow. Sow seeds of fellowship today, my friends. Plant kindness so that you may harvest it in return. Let there be joy in the mourning. When people bottle up all that pain inside for too long, there's gonna come a day when it spews out. If you've ever shaken a soda can and then opened it, you know what a mess this can make. Why not invest just a few seconds more to let that drink settle and then be poured gently over some ice. Ice soothes, refreshes, and cools. Be frozen today, my friends, as you let someone pour themselves out to you. Be still and listen. Offer them a hand and a Kleenex, if necessary. Ice also dilutes. When you take the time to be cool, the pain eases somewhat and indeed refreshes that thirsty soul who just needs a little time to grieve, to share, to matter.

Let's pray.

Dear Lord, I know I was long-winded in this blog and I hope that those who stuck with me have found some comfort and some admonition in my words. God, hearts hurt and are so heavy sometimes that there is just nothing to do except let the pain out or keep it inside and implode. You sent us friends and encouraged us to encourage one another but Lord? We get so busy sometimes that we don't hear what is silently being screamed at to us. We think we see a look in one's eyes that is going to require something of us so we pretend we don't and look the other way because we have enough problems of our own and don't always want to invest in those hurts and haunts of another.

Slow us down, Father. Grant us time, I ask, to help one another, to be compassionate. to be tenderhearted. Your own Son had little rest because He was so concerned about the welfare of others. Help us to emulate this example as we put aside our own needs and wants in favor of helping our fellow man and woman today is my request. May we be like Jesus to others today is my hope. Amen.