No, my job’s not that bad. My office is in Memorial Hall at Bethel College, above Jolliffe Auditorium. There’s a funeral here today for a three-year-old boy. As I came up the steps, I was confronted in the foyer by a display of photos and memorabilia of the little boy. Memorabilia. Those were favorite toys just a week ago. Now, they sit. Memorializing the eviscerating loss of a son, brother, hopes and dreams.
It’s an appropriately cold, gray, drizzly day, an overnight change from the previous days’ sunshine.
I knew the funeral would be here today, but I thought I would come in to work and pray for the family from the seclusion of my office, behind-the-scenes. There’s no seclusion from something like this though. I have no comfort or wisdom for this family, but I will pray and feel a shadow of what must be their overwhelming grief.
From Romans 8,
What we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later. All creation was subjected to God’s curse. But with eager hope, creation looks forward to the day when it will join God’s children in glorious freedom from death and decay. For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering.