Blessed Are the Dead Who Die in the Lord

My mom died last weekend.  It so happened to be exactly 25 years after the death of my goddaughter.  Funeral and burial were this week.

Random thoughts:

Mom's family is awesome.  I have the funnest cousins in the world, and some mighty nifty uncles and aunts.

When my daughter-in-law saw a picture of Mom (in a swimsuit) in her late teens (one of the photos that Dad took with him when he went off to his military stint), Mandy said, "Paul, your grandma was a fox!"  For some reason, Paul did not appreciate this perspective.

The nurses in the oncology dept are superb.  Is it because they're more used to people dying?  Or maybe it's just the individual nurses we happened to encounter.  In my opinion, they outshone the nurses on other floors.

I'm impressed by the funeral home.  They're not "slick."  They have been genuine and helpful and kind.

Boy oh boy, I heard over and over and over from visitors how nice Mom was, how sweet, how they'd never met anyone so kind.  (Yup.  Pretty good assessment, that's for sure.)

I guess I'd never realized (until talking with Pastor while making funeral arrangements) that Mom didn't really have any hobbies.  She was at church for everything.  She invested a lot of time in her family.  She had her job.  And other than that, she helped people.  She didn't have time for hobbies and interests: she was too busy providing assistance others.

We didn't eat ham-buns at the funeral dinner.  (The funeral was obviously not in Wisconsin.)  County Market makes phenomenal chicken.  Delicious call on my sister's part to go with the chicken instead of the sandwiches.  Mmm mmm mmm.

Isn't it amazing that God gives pastors who will minister to those who are sick and dying?  Men who will come even when it's past their bedtime.  Men who keep coming back, even if there be no visible response from the member.  But still they come with the gospel of forgiveness of sins.  Thanks be to God.

My brother pointed out that, when the funeral home came to pick up Mom, she did not moan or grimace or cry out in pain.  Every time somebody had moved her for the previous 3+ weeks, it had been excruciating for her.  No more.  "And God shall wipe away every tear from their eyes....  There shall be no more pain."


Death cannot destroy forever.  
From our fears, cares, and tears 
it will us deliver....  

Lord, my Shepherd, take me to Thee.  
Thou are mine.  I was Thine 
even e'er I knew Thee.  
I am Thine for Thou hast bought me.  
Lost I stood, but Thy blood 
free salvation brought me.  TLH 523



ADD footnote:
For certain of you who object to the word "funnest," I'll have you know that the computer did NOT flag that word as a misspelling or grammar-oops.  So HA.