Again

What a lovely couple of days we've had. After the hardships of last week, we buried Tom and remembered him in a beautiful service on Saturday. Sunday was spent in peace, listening to my husband's sermon and having the added joy of an extra child in my Sunday School class, as well as several visitors for worship.

We slipped away yesterday, to a condo generously loaned to us for two nights. We've enjoyed the Winter Carnival here, romping in the snow, swimming at the local hotel's heated pool, and eating at actual restaurants - something we don't have ANY of in our small town. We've just begun to recharge.

And then this afternoon, my mother-in-law's father passed away. The wind is beginning to shake the windows again.

Death has lingered near us for two weeks now, three funerals. My sons listened quietly as we told them Grandpa Sam was gone, then returned to their play, already assimilating this kind of information quickly and with hope. Kevin and I looked at each other, assimilating the information, yes, but knowing that the week we just experienced is now to be continued. He has been asked to officiate again, so he begins preparing, meeting, comforting, writing yet another funeral sermon, as well as his usual sermon for Sunday.

We're in the trenches. This is what we entered ministry for - to minister. To bring the Word to the people, and to be present in their joy as well as their great need.

But I feel weak. My eyes have grown weary just this afternoon. The refreshed, happy feeling we've been carrying since Monday morning has slipped away, and the focus of this time here feels stolen. I'm cleaning the condo, packing little shoes and toys and toiletries, planning our hour and a half drive early tomorrow to coincide with Eliana's nap. And I'm fighting the bitterness that is rising in my throat, threatening to spew out in a way that will only make my husband's job more difficult.

Shh, beloved, bring him good, and not harm. (Proverbs 31:12)

I humbly beg you for your prayers. Again. I so desire to look back on this time and see the grace that carried me through in an upright fashion. No regrets.

Pray for our family, and the loss of Grandpa Sam, who was ready to go, needed to go, if that makes any sense. For his wife, who is already fading herself and ready to join him. For their daughter, my mother-in-law, an only child. May we be a light to all those in need.

And again, I remember that He is not in the wind. So I let it fly right past me, and root myself deeply in His love and care. This too shall pass, and may I be the better for it.

It's not about me anyway.