The death of a saint.

The Strawberry Shortcake balloon that floated above juxtaposed the solemness of the scene that surrounded it.

Flowers and pictures, some with faded colors that marked their age and others only weeks old, showed the life of a man who had led a full life.

Bodies–some from those pictures–filled the seats.  Hearts listened to son after son share their memories of a diligent man who loved only his family more than he loved hard work and fixing things, no matter how old, with his own bare hands.  Lesson #1: Why pay someone to do something you can do yourself?

Story after story, we shed our tears.  But in the midst of sadness, the sweet sound of laughter also echoed.  It’s a reminder of another good life lesson: In the midst of adversity, only remember the good.

And regardless of reasons, we celebrate the life of a man who professed a faith in the Creator of the world.  We rejoice in the hope promised us in His word.  We reflect on the words of a four-year-old grandchild who upon hearing that grandpa was “sick”, said:

Well, if he’s sick, Jesus has the medicine to make him better.

How profound the words of a child.  How the child did not know just how true that statement is.

And with child-like faith, much like the faith that wants grandpa to have a Strawberry Shortcake balloon tied to the last place his physical body will be, may we strive to serve the King of kings with the short life we are given on this earth.

Lesson 3; It is appointed for man to die once (Heb. 9:27)…when that time comes, will family and friends have a celebration of your life knowing you are rejoicing for eternity with your heavenly maker?

I sure hope so.  For I cannot imagine sitting in a room where hope is completely sucked out.

For in the midst of the tragic circumstances that led to today, there was much rejoicing.  And for that we say, Thank you, Lord.

May as many as possible be able to have a celebration on the day of their earthly good-bye.

Complete with Strawberry Shortcake balloons and all.

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On being weary.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of blog posts dance in my head.  And as weeks have passed since the last heart-felt entry (thank you to those who expressed being able to resonate with it), it’s hard to know where to begin.

So I choose to begin with where all these blurred days have led me.

Third grade has kicked my butt.  Big time.  Every educator I know just shakes their head knowingly when I tell them what grade my son is in.  It has been a big adjustment the amount of work to do, including “real” studying for quizzes and tests.  There’s two book reports a month in addition to trying to allow him to have some extra curricular fun with church classes, keyboard lessons, and Little League.  There is also one other big issue we are dealing with, but I’m still processing my thoughts on it.

In general, the month of September is overwhelming.  After a blissfully relaxing summer (which I thank God I am able to have), everything begins again full-force in the ninth month.  There’s barely a chance to catch one’s breath.  I always tell people when I proclaim how “busy” I am, that it’s a good busy.  All good, worthwhile things.  But trying to do those good things, work, and take care of a household and the people in it (accompanied by an undiagnosed but fairly certain DX of OCD when it comes to cleaning and the like) leads me to being one very tired human being.

Yesterday I posted a picture of hubby putting together our dinner for us.  {Bless his heart.} He’s giving me a break on Tuesdays where I now get home after him. Not long after I posted that photo, baby boy went to the bath and I saw dear hubby sprawled across our bed sleeping soundly.  Barely 7:45 P.M.  I would have joined him, or woken him up to be truthful, except the day before I took a three hour nap in the afternoon when I literally could not keep my eyes open as I sat at our table doing homework with the 3rd grader.

As baby boy proceeded to announce every.single.Mets.player and subsequently sing their at bat song (true story), I pondered Why do we do what we do?  Why are we always so tired?  So out of time?

I don’t ask those questions in a complaining way.  I know full well we choose what to fill our plates with.  No one forces me to do {most} of what I do.  {Except 3rd grade homework.  Totally being forced.}

Recently I watched a wonderful sermon from John Piper found here.  Though this was not the point of his talk, one of the things he mentioned was how people think they have to work hard all their lives to get to a point where they enjoy 20 years of retirement.

{And the point of that is the reason that mentality is wrong because our enjoyment will be in heaven with Jesus.}

But it made me think, along with the tiredness of this week, that we work so hard, doing jobs that we may not necessarily even enjoy (not in my case) and for what?  WHY are we doing what we do?

It’s hard because the answer isn’t as simple as throwing caution to the wind and going to live on a beach somewhere.  (Oh, that’s not your dream too?)  We have to work in order to provide for ourselves, and hopefully help others along the way, so all we can do is be diligent and do it all for the glory of God.

I feel I’m not really able to express what’s in my head.  But I know I’ve been weary.  And I can only find my rest in the only One who gives it.

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Matthew 11:28 ESV