Comfort and sorrow.

The blogtember prompt for today was "React to this term: comfort." 

   I have been thinking lately of the comfort we have in the cross of Christ.  Not that the cross is comfortable...it is scary.  It is brutal.  It is horrific.  But the comfort we have in HOPE.  He arose from the dead.  He lives forever.

 

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The comfort in knowing He paid it all. 
The comfort that, though separated by death for a time, we can live together eternally once more.  The comfort that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, but God SO LOVED THE WORLD, that He gave His one and only Son....that whoever believes in Him, will have that eternal life. 

  I often stick to blogging only what I am comfortable about, and not the alternative.  But we live in a fallen world, and so bad/sad things happen and I am just not sure how to blog about it, or what to say at all for that matter, and so usually when that happens I just don't blog anything at all about whatever it is I'm unsure of how to say.  But in this case, it just doesn't quite seem right to not say anything, so here goes.

   My brother-in-law Byran, is married to a lovely girl, inside and out, named Amy.  I only wish they lived closer to us so that we could spend more time together.  She is clever and outspoken,  a wonderful mother to two handsome boys, a perfect match for Byran, and sings with the voice of an angel.  Usually you say that with some amount of exaggeration but in all seriousness, I do believe that in Heaven, they sound a lot like Amy(Weaver)Smucker.

   Recently, Amy's mother Lois passed away.  I didn't have the pleasure of knowing her personally, but from all that I heard she was a wonderful woman who loved Jesus, loved her family, and lived her life to be a blessing to all of those around her.  She raised Amy to be a confidant and loving person, and so that gives me a good glimpse into who she must have been.  Her family watched her courageously battle cancer for five years before she went to be with Jesus. 

   I cannot imagine their loss, especially their specific loss of a mother.  It must be so strange, to think that someone so near and dear to them, that they walked with, talked with, touched, hugged, and loved is now holding Jesus' hand.  Walking those streets, seeing all of the saints....I talked with my aunt Cherie this morning who also recently lost a dear friend Sylvia.  She too was saying how strange it is to think that this friend she walked and talked with is looking into the face of Jesus at this very moment in time.  I can't quite comprehend it all.  It is the strangest thing....our life here and our life eternal. Our lives here are just a vapor.  Just a breath....here today, gone the next.  So fast.  So fleeting.  Just a blip on the radar.

   My own mom's mother passed away when I was a small child.  I never knew her.  But now, being in my mom's shoes at that stage of life, (a mother to two small children) I often think of what she must have felt, losing a mom at the very stage I am at now.  And as always, I just can't quite imagine it.  I suppose God gives you the grace as you walk through it, because I just can't imagine.

   I often, OFTEN wish I could have known Mom's mother, Berniece.  I feel it would have given me SUCH a powerful insight into what made my own mom into the woman she is today, and why.  I hear all these stories and my curiosity is never quite satisfied.  I've always thought that my mom works harder and faster than anyone I know.  And legend has it that Berniece could work circles around 10 women, anytime, anywhere.

  I think now of Amy's boys, and how they might wonder those same things someday.  How they will see Amy shape the bread dough and wonder, "Where did she learn that?"  How they will sing with her at night and wonder, "Did Grandma have such a lovely voice too?"  How they will ask her to tell them stories of when she was young and soak it all in and try to put all the puzzle pieces into place of what makes Amy, Amy.

  Lois' memory will live on, through Amy.  Because she was her mama, and she helped mold, teach, and form Amy into the strong, Godly woman she is today.  In the same way, my mom carries on the legacies of her mother, and I am able to catch glimpses now and then, of the woman Berniece must have been. 

I only hope that I will have something to pass on to my daughters one day as well. 

   My heart goes out to them during this difficult time.  If you think of it, please say a prayer for the Weaver family.