Robert was my first best friend. We met at Humpty Dumpty Nursery and quickly
became buddies, building tire towers, setting new swing jump records, and
joining forces against the girls. We
grew up together and I had other good friends along the way. But Rob is the only friend I had from nursery
school thru high school. We played
football together, went camping together, sharing the experiences of growing up
in our small town.
It didn't take long to discover girls weren't all that bad. I was blessed to find my girl, and Rob found
his. Her name was Mindy. As I learned this last week Robert worked
with Mindy, and after flirting with her for a long time finally asked her out,
to which she replied, “It’s about time.”
That was the beginning of a romance which spawned a beautiful family of three
children. A few days ago my friend Rob
held the oldest of his three children tightly in his arms as they entered the
sanctuary to say their final goodbyes to Mindy.
Their mother. Rob’s girl.
A
couple of times during the service our eyes met. It was a bit surreal to gaze on my playground
buddy and quickly traverse the years of living that brought us to this point,
to this place. I have no idea what my
look communicated. There just aren't words – spoken or unspoken – at times like these. Despite our best efforts we flesh bound
creatures are inadequate for interpreting much of life’s main events. We just muddle through, drawing strength from
one another, and trusting our Maker. So
I simply gave Rob a look that said, “I know you are in pain… I wish there was
something more I could do… I can’t imagine your grief…”
And then I noticed that behind him
on the wall of the church balcony the clock was smiling. It was 10:10 am, which meant that each hand
of the analog clock was pointed slightly upward – like a smile. Have you ever noticed the clocks in the
backgrounds of catalog or website advertisements? They always show the time to be 10:10 or
2:50. Both hands pointed skyward,
creating a smile. Advertisers use this
little subconscious trick to help create a positive feeling toward their
product. Sort of like the empty words we
utter in times of loss… trying to create a good feeling. Trying to help our friends see the silver
lining of a dark cloud.
Some might feel the clock was
mocking us. But in light of the preacher’s
words, and the testimony of the life being remembered, and the faith my longtime
friend and I share, it was a welcome smile.
Scripture says we do not grieve like those who have no hope (1
Thessalonians 4:13). It does not say we
do not grieve… we just grieve differently.
We grieve out of hope. We grieve
the empty place this kind of loss leaves.
We grieve with often physically painful expressions. But our grief is turned to joy because our
God is a redeemer.
Our redeeming God has conquered the power of
death to separate us from Himself and those we love. Our redeeming God heals our broken hearts,
not in ways that minimize our loss or take away our longing to be one with our
love again, but with his presence and his providence. He inserts himself into our lives in the flesh
and blood of his people, and he gives strength day to day to live beyond the
pain. God never intends that we
completely heal from such things, but he does give us a new song and a new
beginning. And because of that the
smiling clock was welcome in our sanctuary.
