Graveside Poetry

This morning I attended the burial service of a young lady whom I had never met. It was an interesting experience to be able to observe without having any personal history or emotional thoughts running through my head. I was able to watch a family grieving and the process with which they said their last goodbyes. As the family was seated in six folding chairs that formed a semi-circle around the grave, I stood behind them and surveyed the scene; I watched as loved ones hugged and comforted each other as best they knew how. I learned which woman was the mother based on the sound of the sobs that could only be produced by a grieving mother devastated to be outliving her daughter. As she hugged other family members, I looked on feeling like an intruder watching what were most likely the saddest tears this woman had ever cried, hit the top of the fake grass carpets laying a top the grave site that soaked up all her pain.

What really struck me in all of it was the metaphor that the whole experience seemed to portray.

After a time of grieving, the family sat and looked at the box that held the remains of their loved one, unsure of what to do next. They peered around at one another, looking and asking to see if they could find the man they had talked to earlier:  the owner of the cemetery who knew how all these things were supposed to work.  He stood off in the distance. The man was solemn-faced and wearing sunglasses.  He stood behind us, just patiently waiting to be called upon. He said he would be ready when they signaled him. As I watched the family look for someone to help show them the way to properly send off their loved one, I could not help but compare the entire situation to our relationship with God.

The family took their time and grieved, cried and spent time together. The pastor spoke a few words from scripture, and offered a prayer and a few comforting thoughts; but when it came time, we needed the owner to show us the way. He waited patiently in the background until we gave him the signal that we needed his help; and he came quietly over to guide the process. 

The clean cut, brawny young man, lifted up the turf-like carpet to reveal the old wood that created the pedestal that the pure white box had formerly sat upon.  He showed us, that the covering which had provided a nice looking grave site, once removed, simply covered a piece of dry, dirty ground in which a hole had been dug.  As he began to lower the box into the ground, he did not do it alone. He prepared the ropes so that the family could lower the box with him.

I don’t know why, but in that moment the Lord revealed a picture of his wisdom to me. I have been learning to appreciate the poetry and beauty that lies in our relationship with Christ.

We wander around this earth, not sure exactly what we’re doing a lot of the time, or if we’re doing it right. We look around to family, to ministers, to books, and ask to see what we should be doing. Then, we remember there is a man we talked to earlier about things, and he told us that he would show us the way if we would only call on him. When we do, he comes promptly, and removes the carpet covering all the falsities that we’ve believed for so long and reveals to us the bare truth underneath. It’s sometimes something hard to deal with. It is those times when you don’t think you can cry another tear onto that green carpet that holds all your hurt; but when you give him the signal that you need his help, the Lord comes quickly to your aid. He guides you in the process of finally letting go of that struggle, but he asks you to take part in the work. He shows you the way, then helps you in the process. You do it together because he knows that you will appreciate the experience more if you are the one doing it, but he understands you cannot do it alone.

I am amazed at the true wisdom that the Lord possesses and blessed when he reveals even just a piece of it to me in times like this. How great is the Lord on whom we can cast all our cares. He will come and show us the truth, the process, and then help us to our end goal. A somber morning indeed, but the Lord is near. Let us all remember that He is waiting for us to give Him the signal that we are ready for Him to come in and help us heal.

Psalm 145:18 The Lord is near to all who call on him