Grieving and rejoicing at the same time

I find myself grieving and yet at the same time rejoicing. Maybe someone far more educated than I will tell me that such is impossible. Perhaps someone who deals with the human mind will share with me that my emotions have befuddled me. It’s certainly possible that someone who reads these words will communicate with me that my line of thinking is seriously flawed and it would be best if I saw a ‘shrink’! But there is an entire “community of faith” who knows what I’m experiencing and would underscore their understanding of it and even go so far as to add a whispered prayer of support.

You see – Homer, my brother of seventy-three years, passed away last week – and so I humanly, and rightly I believe, grieve. But in observing his physical deterioration over the last two decades from the debilitating disease of multiple sclerosis (MS) and knowing that he was prepared to die – and even longed for the release it would bring – I have great cause to rejoice. Herein is to be found the truth of the Scripture that we grieve but not as ones without “hope” for He who is entitled the “Blessed Hope” has welcomed one of his followers into glory.

There were six children born to my parents, five of which survived beyond infancy. First there were four boys – Pat Jr., Johnny, Jimmy, and then Billy Ray who lived only a few months. Another boy followed, Homer, and finally a girl, Zada Harriett, named after both grandmothers. Pat Jr. died suddenly in 1956 at age 29 of a massive heart-attack leaving four remaining siblings. Homer’s death means that only numbers 2, 3, and 6 of Pat and Ruby Jackson’s clan still breathe the air of this life while anticipating our own future ‘home-goings’ at times only the sovereign Lord knows. In our family the ultimate realization of human mortality has been experienced in infancy, young adulthood, and now in later years.

As many of you, I have lived long enough to see the passing of both parents and also the parents and only sibling (a twin sister) of my wife. As a Christian minister for nearly sixty years I have witnessed the deaths of many friends, church members, and even follow ministers – scores of whom I have participated in their burials. I have seen the “grim reaper” up close in my own family and that of others and know first-hand why the Bible identifies him as the “last enemy”.  I have witnessed the shock of unexpected death, the anguish of prolonged death and the tears and heartaches that each brings to loved ones and friends. I’m aware that death severs human relationships and that it brings finality in experiencing the actual presence of the deceased one. And for all of this – we grieve!

But there is another chapter to the story. My brother, whose talents as a pianist and organist were on a par with the most gifted, had become a Christian  early in life and spent many years in Christian musical service. His talents were ultimately eroded by his disease; eventually he could not care for himself and was forced to resign himself to spending the remainder of his life in a nursing facility; walking with a walker gave way to time in a wheelchair which in the last stage of his life changed to being bedridden. With the lost of muscle control his ability to talk was severely curtailed and even the manner in which he was given food had to be carefully monitored. He never lost his love for candy and ice cream and looked forward to the times when Cleo would send him a pound cake which he enjoyed so much that he would very carefully share only to the ones who were closest to him. He loved music to the end and felt that he had been blessed to share his God-given talent with so many. However, in the “end” he waited, sometimes impatiently and with questions, for God to take him “home”.

So I rejoice! He is free of the disease that held him so tightly for 20-25 years. He has been welcomed by the Lord but also by Mom, Dad, and Pat Jr. and I expect he has been introduced to Billy Ray. He will never shed another tear – so why should I, except that I will miss him. He was “family” here – a diminishing entity as counted by numbers – but he was “family” in an even more important manner – the family of God through Jesus Christ.

Bon voyage, dear brother. Like countless others, I will miss you. Life here, even in its extremes, is brief, so it will not be long until I see you again. Until then, I will grieve but I will also rejoice!

                                                  Pastor Jimmy, December 5, 2011    

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