Good Friday, April 15
Compassion of God
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. —Psalm 34:18
The long season of Lent can bring a deep sense of loneliness and longing in those who have lost a dear one. Sometimes God has surprising ways to comfort us. Although it has been thirteen years since losing my husband and best friend Chris, that grief still overwhelms me at times. I make an annual visit to his gravesite in November. After this year’s visit, I wrote the following meditation:
The beautiful November morning reminded me of the day of his funeral – crisp air, clear sky of Carolina blue, autumn leaves drifting in the light breeze. The young girl silently and reverently helped remove the hanger from the basket of lavender and lemon petunias I had chosen when she understood that they would rest on my husband’s grave. She gently sent me off with compassionate words, unexpected from a stranger, especially one so young.
At the gravesite, mockingbirds flashed wings in territorial posturing while chattering blue jays rooted for nourishing tidbits in the manicured grass. After nestling the basket of petunias by the grave marker, I sat on some other grieving family’s memorial bench of marble and, instead of praying, began to talk to Chris.
The sun on my back was warm, the clean air felt like food for my lungs, and I could almost hear the echo of the bagpipes playing Amazing Grace. As I reminisced about days now long ago, joy flowed from my eyes down my cheeks. I knew Chris was listening as I regaled him with my little stories of baby box turtles and soaring pelicans and sugar snap peas pushing up through the garden dirt.
While I talked a lot and sang a little, I looked around at the hundreds of graves so lovingly decorated with colorful flowers of silk and plastic. Then, turning back to the humble pot of petunias, I smiled as a beautiful painted lady butterfly rested on a yellow blossom and blessed the day’s reunion.
God of healing and hope, we rest in the promise of life everlasting that you have given each of us through the life, death and resurrection of your precious son. Help us to live with joy each day and reach for your comfort in times of sorrow. Amen.
Betty Schroeder