"For now we see in a mirror, dimly....."

"For now we see in a mirror, dimly....." This is a line from a passage of scripture from I Corinthians (13:12 to be exact) that was used in the Memory Card, handed out at my nephew Chuck's funeral yesterday. And it describes exactly how I am feeling - as if I am viewing the world through a fog...everything dim and distorted. If I had to guess, I would attribute it to intense emotional and physical exhaustion. The odd thing is though, that there are some things that stand out in sharp relief...as if they had been filmed in HD in my minds eye. First to penetrate the fog yesterday, was the face of my niece-in-law - the beautiful widow. The abject despair etched into that face is not something I will ever be able to erase from my memory. Never before have I beheld such wrenching, wretched pain. Her body bent double with the weight of the reality of the day as she clutched Chuck's suede jacket - the very jacket he was wearing the last time I hugged him....For all the loss and grief that I have experienced in my life, never have I seen or heard such raw, unadulterated, articulated anguish. The clarity hit me again, as I stood by the Casket preparing to sing...College Boy strumming the introduction to Amazing Grace (He played so beautifully - he gave every ounce of talent he possessed to the moment, and his arrangement was powerful and healing). It came to me that he and I have made music together at the funerals of both of my nephews....For Chris, I was carrying College Boy inside me, dealing with the most intense Braxton Hicks contractions as I struggled for breath to sing (Then, as now - I found that it is impossible to sing a decent note when your throat is tight with grief....). For Chuck, I had College Boy beside me - my partner in music once again. The next snapshot came at the cemetery, as Chuck's casket was placed beside the resting place of  his brother...I saw them as they once were - two little boys, twin beds side by side, sharing a sleeping place that was crowded with toys and clothes, and the trappings of daily living....once again they lie side by side - an image that caused the incessant shivering to return, and the fractured pieces of my heart to splinter once again. The rest of the day revolved around coffee and cheese straws, hugs, quiet times, and the gentle laughter of recollection, as story after story was told...no sharp edges - just soft ripples in the gloom.Today dawned dimmer than yesterday - perhaps a result of the grief hangover. As I rolled out of bed this morning, I was confronted by a face that looked as if it had been on a five day drunk - swollen eyes, blotchy skin...sad to say, I looked better than I felt. But it was the Lord's day...a work day for this Children's Minister, and as any good Baptist can tell you, a Sunday in December is bound to be one long day....As I made my preparations, I entered into our first Service on Auto....sing the songs, light the candles....please be over soon.....and then - the unexpected moment of clarity - a snapshot to be treasured - a yin to yesterdays yang, the light to the dark, the hope to the despair.....The gift of song, by brother and sister. I sing with the Brother every week, his voice is almost as familiar to me as my own, and he was in fine form this morning. As I left the podium, and settled in my pew, he helped his sister up the steps...not a gesture to be taken lightly, for this beautiful red haired woman has a sinister disease - one that has robbed her of her hearing, taken a portion of her ability to speak, and left her with difficulties in mobility. Brother helped her into a chair, and then took up his acoustic guitar - starting the introduction to What Child is This....never taking his eyes off of his Sister. As Brother sang, Sister signed - in perfect time, to the beat she could not hear. Her movements were so beautiful, so profound,so lyrical, such a blessing - I was undone. The music in her soul, and the worship in her hands were a balm to my raw, wounded heart....a welcome moment of brightness, in a dim and desperate week. I am exhausted, I am grief stricken, I am fearful to let my family out of my sight....but there is a small kindling of warmth, somewhere in my core, thanks to this unexpected moment in my dreary day....a snapshot of hope - more clear than drear....a reminder of the remainder of the verse in I Corinthians...."For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know, just as I am also known...." The word of God, for the people of God.....Thanks be to God.