Today I attended the funeral of Steve's Uncle Ken Collard. Uncle Ken was an amazing man, a man of faith and commitment, who lived life well. He was, as his son said, an ordinary man, living an ordinary life in an extraordinary way. His son Tim did the "sermon" part of the funeral, and used as his text Ps. 116:15 "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." After talking about what the Bible means by the word "saint", he went on to discuss the question "how can the death of one of His saints be 'precious' to the Lord?" Interesting question, not one I had ever really considered before. When I think about Christians dying, I tend to think about the joy of closing our eyes here on earth and opening them in heaven and how wonderful it will be to actually SEE Jesus. So, basically I think about how precious heaven and Jesus is to us. But our deaths being precious to Him? Hmmm. Tim's explanation really spoke to my heart. He described it as a father welcoming home a child who has been away. Which I understood immediately. This summer, Kristi spent 6 weeks in Europe. She had a blast - London, Paris, Rome, Scotland, she did it all. We were able to stay in touch via phone (land lines and cell), internet (facebook, email, IM) and Skype (many blessings on the person who invented THAT!). Still, I missed her. A LOT. Even though we could communicate with each other and even 'see' each other, if wasn't the same as being face to face. I knew I was going to miss her. Before she even left, I had circled the date on the calendar when she was coming home, putting a big note as to the time. While she was gone, I kept a little countdown going on the wall calendar, each day writing in a number that was one less than the day before. I had a picture posted on the fridge, taken just before she left, of her holding a bunch of travel books that she received for her birthday; under that was her itinerary for the 6 weeks of class, showing the plays, museums and day trips they were going on - I added in the weekend trips that she was taking, and looked each day to see what she would be doing. When she posted pictures on FB, I would pore over them, as much to see her face as to see the places she was visiting. Still, none of that did much to assuage the feeling of missing her. Finally, however, the day arrived - she was coming home!! It so happened that she came home on the Saturday that I was doing the Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk, so I was not able to be at the airport with everyone else to meet her. But family and friends were kind enough to bring her to meet me at one of the cheering stations. And as I gave her the biggest and longest hug EVER, all I could think of was "Finally!! She's here!!!"
Isn't it an amazing thing to think that maybe God has the date circled on His calendar, with a little countdown going in the corner, of how many days until we get 'home'? And that, when we get there, He throws His arms around us, gives us the biggest and longest hug EVER, and says "Finally!! She's here!!!" OK, I know, the finer points of theology would point out that God doesn't experience time like we do, and that He is omnipresent, so He is really right here with us, etc. But Jesus was made 'like us' and physically resurrected after His death. And consider the parable of the prodigal son - what does the father do when the son appears down the road? He RUNS down the road and THROWS his arms around his son and kisses him. Sounds like a "Finally!! He's here!!!" type of moment to me!
The other thing that is comforting about that scenario is that it emphasizes that God knows the date when we will go 'home'. It's arranged, all part of His plan; when we go 'home', it will be because it is exactly the right time. I know that theologically but, somehow, seeing it through this lens of a parent awaiting the arrival of a beloved child and planning for it, well, it just makes it a lot more real, understandable, and comforting.
Soooo......Welcome home, Kristi!
And......Welcome home, Uncle Ken!
