I can remember it like yesterday. The air blew cool on our faces attempting to dry the tears that fell without number only leaving me to shiver. Though a short distant from our house, the walk felt endless as all was cold and damp. With arms around each other there were no words that could be said as we staggered to the place behind his truck that carried him. As the sun rose high in the October sky, my ten brothers, ever so lovingly, laid him low. I can hear the sound now, it sent chills up my spine as the thud of soil hitting his pine box seemed to echo and resinate through every fiber of my being. Struggling to grasp the reality of it, there was agonizing pain and yet joyful peace, as the deep voice of an older brother reading a message from the gospel of Christ could be heard above the solemn sound of cold dirt thundering as it landed. Passing the shovel...a younger brother stood quoting the second psalm aloud. As I listened to one of our fathers favorite passages in scripture, I watched the cross on the box that held him, slowly disappear. The words engraved on the lid yet shall he live vanished. Endeavoring to grasp the reality of the place God deemed best for His glory, we all took turns shoveling dirt over the remains of the man that we loved more then words could say. As I gripped the rough handle and piled the soil over him, the truth, absent from the body, present with the LORD steadied my shaking hands. After thanking the LORD together for our Living Savior, the Lamb of God Who took away the sin of the world and reconciles all things to Himself through the death of His Son, we cried and held each other tight. Then filing down daddys favorite walking path we picked Black Eyed Susans and other wild flowers to lay on his grave. The scene was beautifully sad. Pain in every action, love in every thought. Honor for the man that lead each of us to Jesus and gave us a beautiful visual of our Heavenly Fathers love was made evident through every detail. My heart hurt so I could barely breath as I thought back to the beautiful scenes of watching my precious mother care for daddy in his last days as my sisters and I helped through the long nights, watching my older brothers build his casket the following days, and holding the lantern for my younger brothers that helped dig his grave late into the night before. I stand in awe of the LORDs goodness and power as I still find it hard to grasp the grace He gave us to endure the dark valley of death He chose for our family. I will never forget the beauty of that sweet, agonizing morning...one year ago today.
Posted on: Mon, 06 Oct 2014 00:06:36 +0000
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