Unimaginable

Last week I attended the funeral of a 14 year old boy.  Many summers ago, I taught him to swim and enjoyed seeing him almost daily at the pool.  And though I hadn't seen him in years, I remembered him vividly as that ridiculously cute, toothless six year old I adored.  His tragic death left me at such a loss for words. I wondered how his mother would be able to breathe again knowing that her child was gone.  I couldn't wrap my brain around the depth of her loss.  How do you continue to function?  How do you put one foot in front of the other?  How do you ever smile again?  It is unimaginable.  

As I stood in line to speak to his mother at the funeral home, I was overwhelmed by the photos.  Tons of photos.  Photos of him as a precious baby...as a toddler...happy memories of a wonderful childhood.  And as I stood there gazing at those photos, I was most taken by the many pictures of him and his older brother as they grew up together over the years.  And I thought of my boys.  My boys.  This could be my boys.  Brothers with an unbreakable bond.  And my heart broke as I allowed my mind to think "What if?"  "What if this was one of my boys?"   Unimaginable.

When I made my way to his mother, I shuttered at the image of her and her husband standing there by their son's casket.  I thought never in a million years could these two have imagined this horrible tragedy. Days ago their family was whole and now they were burying their child.  Their son.  I wrapped my arms around his heartbroken mother and she wept on my shoulder.  An exhausted, heartbroken cry.  And as I told her through my own tears how sorry I was she told me to go home and love my boys.  "Hug them. Kiss them.  Just love them every minute.  Love your boys."  She kept repeating herself, almost as if she was begging me to love my boys.  I told her over and over that I do and I will.  

The following day at his funeral, I watched this sweet mother, a mother who lived her life for her boys, walk in with her arm around her oldest son.  Her husband walked in arm in arm with their youngest son. And I watched as those boys took care of their parents, their roles reversed at their family's darkest moment.  And at the end of the service, as those boys walked their devastated parents out of the church, I saw grief unlike I've ever seen.  His mother was in such pain, pure anguish.  I will never forget her face.  It was unlike anything I've ever seen.  Unimaginable.

While my thoughts have been consumed with the loss of this child, our family has been dealt a devastating blow.  Jody's uncle was told on Monday that he has cancer.  He was rushed in for emergency surgery on Wednesday and learned that he has cancer in many parts of his body.  Stage four cancer.  Unimaginable. He was told he has two months to live.  And we are all devastated.  He is only in his fifties and is a man who gives unselfishly to everyone.  He has three children and Lila, his sweet first grandchild.  

Jody and I are so shocked and saddened by this news.  Jody is heartbroken.  We are all heartbroken.  But as we cry and struggle to grasp the news, he stands firm in his faith and teaches us all a lesson in bravery. He is not afraid.  His mind is clear and he has no fears.   He is working to make sure everything is in order and is dictating his own will.  We can all learn so much from him.  He exudes a peace that can only be found through knowing Jesus Christ as your savior.  His eyes are fixed on the prize, an eternity in paradise where there is no cancer, no pain.  

I have been so amazed by his grace.  This grace is such a testimony to me.  I want it.  I want the ability to face life's disappointments and even death with that kind of faith and certainty.  I want it for my loved ones.   I want it for my boys.  I want to raise my sons to know that Jesus shed his blood for them and through Him they can live forever.  

Unimaginable events.  Unimaginable pain.  And as I struggle to understand why, I know I have learned so much.  Life is precious.  Our days are fleeting.  All we have is right now.  In an instant, life as you know it ends.  We only have today.  Today to soak in life's blessings and to show love.  Today to get to know Jesus Christ.  Today to tell someone how we feel about them. Today to enjoy.  Today to be thankful.

So in the mist of such tragedy, I vow to be better.  To do better.  And just when I think I can't kiss and hug my boys anymore than I do...I can.  Instead of 100 kisses and squeezes a day, my boys will receive 101. They will receive more I love yous...more praises...more devotion.  I want those I love to know it...no questions.  I owe it to them.  God has blessed me with a wonderful family, amazing children and a life overflowing with happiness.  And I've done nothing to deserve it.  I am a sinner saved only by God's grace and His love for me, His child.    His love for me is...unimaginable.