Observations Of Their Grief

It was my first meal there … Butler’s … a new bar and bistro … only open since mid-May.  As I approached the establishment that I had passed on numerous occasions before, I noticed quite a gathering of people in front of the building.  That isn’t uncommon as people here gather after their work-day to have a pint or two before going home, but what caught my attention was all of the dark suits.

At first I thought perhaps it was a private party … perhaps an office party or a birthday.  But after I was seated, back to the wall, I could observe the crowd that had also gathered inside, particularly around the bar … and most dressed in black or very dark clothing … men looking a wee bit awkward in suits that did not fit many of them, so it was easy to discern that suits were not the norm for most of these chaps.  So what was the special occasion?

I tried to listen carefully to get a clue of what was going on, but the hearing isn’t what it used to be, so I could not overhear the various conversations.  (Eavesdropping is okay as long as it’s for spiritual reason, right???)  However, the body language told the story.  Apparently the mother (or “mum” as many would say here) of two women and one man had died.  Almost everyone in the crowd seemed to take a moment or two with the three of them.  There were tears and hugs and tissues and lots of awkwardness.

Having spent a lot of time through the years attending, singing at, and speaking at funerals, perhaps I’ve grown “comfortable” in the role as “comforter,” at least as much as a human being can comfort someone.  Or perhaps there really is a “peace that passes all understanding” … yes … that’s it!  To know The Prince of Peace personally, and to endeavor to follow Him with life as well as lip, makes all the difference in the world … as well as in eternity.

In the States, we tend to bury our loved ones and then head over to a local church “fellowship hall” or restaurant and gorge ourselves with food as though that is the “God of all comfort!”  Here, at least for one family and their friends, they gathered to down a few pints to drown a few feelings no doubt. 

But having gone through the “worst funeral of my life” only a few months ago, I asked myself questions as I observed others in the ebb and flow of life and death.  After a barrage of queries within my own mind, I concluded that I surely am thankful for godly Christian parents, a little country church near my home in eastern Tennessee, and a faithful minister of the Gospel – Allen Herr – and that when I heard the Gospel that was made available to me in May 1959, I understood that it applied to me, and that I accepted those marvelous truths.

Not only did that lay a foundation on which my life could be built, but established my security for all eternity, as well as a daily guarantee, as Paul expressed it, that “my God shall supply all your needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus!”  And that’s more than just what we eat, or what we put on, or where we pillow our heads at night … but when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death also.  David was onto something … I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me.

I ate in silence … even ordered a dessert in order to continue my observations … and finally drove away with another piece to the puzzle of “Why-am-I-here?” in place.  Simple answer – to make an eternal difference in as many lifes as possible.

 Do you pray?  If so, would you ask God to use each circumstance of each day to help me better understand my new culture, the people who surround me, and specifically how He would have me to proceed?  I would be grateful.