Today is a tough day. In truth, today is the culmination of a month of tough days, and I'm not really sure how you're going to do.
Grandpa passed away March 28, and you understood that far beyond Dad's and my expectations which made us both happy and sad. I am so grateful that you and Grandpa were able to develop such a strong relationship in your five short years, but I am so terribly sorry for your pain in losing him.
We've told you that today we're going to celebrate Grandpa, which is true, but I worry that when you see the pain and loss in others today your poor heart may break again. I trust that with time and love God will help Daddy and me to put it back together, but I dearly hope today is not too hard for you.
As the years pass, I don't know how much you'll remember of this time, but I want to make sure you understand the love and support we have received from so many people as Grandpa was fighting the cancer, as I was traveling back and forth to Texas, and as we are all mourning his loss.
Below are the words I hope to speak at his memorial this evening in an effort to share our sincere gratitude to everyone who has cared for us. We are truly loved, my dear boy.
Imagine someone takes
you to a party. You see a few friends
there, enjoy a couple of good conversations, a little laughter, and some decent
appetizers. The party's all right, but
you keep hoping it will get better. Give
it another hour, and maybe it will.
Suddenly, your friend says, "I need to take you home."
Now?
You're disappointed --
nobody wants to leave a party early -- but you leave, and your friend drops you
off at your house. As you approach the
door, you're feeling all alone and sorry for yourself. As you open the door and reach for the light
switch, you sense someone's there. Your
heart's in your throat. Your flip on the
light.
"Surprise!" Your house is full of smiling people,
familiar faces.
It's a party -- for you. You
smell your favorites -- barbecued ribs and [rhubarb] pie right out of the
oven. The tables are full. It's a feast.
You recognize the guests, people you haven't seen for a long time. Then, one by one, the people you most enjoyed
at the other party show up at your house, grinning. This turns out to be the real party.
You realize that if you'd stayed longer at the other party, as you'd
wanted, you wouldn't be at the real party -- you'd be away from it.
Christians faced with
terminal illness or imminent death often feel they're leaving the party before
it's over. They have to go home
early. They're disappointed, thinking
of all they'll miss when they leave. But
the truth is, the real party is underway at home -- precisely where they're
going. They're not the ones missing the
party; those of us left behind are.
(Fortunately, if we know Jesus, we'll get there eventually.)
One by one,
occasionally a few of us at a time, we'll disappear from this world. Those we leave behind will grieve that their
loved ones have left home. In reality,
however, their believing loved ones aren't leaving home, they're going
home. They'll be home before us. We'll be arriving at the party a little
later.
As you can imagine, the Biblical truth behind this metaphor
from Randy Alcorn's book Heaven, has
given many of us comfort over the past weeks as we strive to understand and
live with our great loss.
But you all have provided even greater comfort. Mom, Chris, Angie, our families and I would
like to thank all of you for your kindness, love and support over the past year
and a half, and especially the past few weeks.
Many of you had a greater understanding of what we were and
would be going through than we did -- thank you for propping us up.
Many of you have offered countless prayers on our behalf,
and as James says, "the effective prayer of a righteous man can accomplish
much." Through your prayers and God's grace and mercy, our family was able to come
together physically, emotionally and spiritually to minister to Dad in his last
days. Through your prayers even he was able to find peace in the
knowledge that all of his days were written in the book of the God who created
the heavens and the earth.
And the rest of us are able to continue to find peace in the
truth of heaven and the hope that Dad is already there, in the presence of Jesus Christ, our Savior,
along with his mom, dad, cousins, friends and fellow soldiers who went before
him.
Thank you for praying for us as we embark into this unknown
world, temporarily separated from our Danny...my Dad.
And now we ask that you join us in an earthly celebration of
Dad's life -- barbecue of course -- as he enjoys the real celebration in heaven, but first, our prayer for each of you
is that
The
Lord bless you and keep you;
the
Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you;
the
Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. (Numbers 6:24-27)
