Remembering Life's Brevity

Ma Belle died last Sunday. All week we have been gathered around Papa, her beloved husband of sixty four years. There has been an unspoken theme in our shared grief. Boxes were found that contained love letters, love letters written from generations past. We spoke not only about the covenant of love that they had shared but we also spoke about the unfailing love God has been shown to this family as they have sought to serve God throughout the generations.

Lord, you have been our dwelling place

throughout all generations.

Before the mountains were born

or you brought forth the earth and the world,

from everlasting to everlasting you are God.

Our conversation has often begun with Papa wondering how they could possibly be in their nineties. Last year we had a big celebration for their ninetieth birthdays. Lots of pictures were taken, pictures that we now cherish. However, Papa never saw himself as an old man instead he found a picture of his wedding day and put it with the picture of the ninetieth birthday and said, “This is how I still see myself and Isabelle.”

You turn men back to dust,

saying, “Return to dust, O sons of men.”

For a thousand years in your sight

are like a day that has just gone by,

or like a watch in the night.

You sweep men away in the sleep of death;

they are like the new grass of the morning-

though in the morning it springs up new,

by evening it is dry and withered.

Both Ma Belle and Papa had one request for their funeral service they wanted a clear presentation of the gospel. Why? It was because they understood what Jesus had done for them. They understood that,”This is real love-- not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.” 1 John 4:10

We are consumed by your anger

and terrified by your indignation.

You have set our iniquities before you,

our secret sins in the light of your wrath;

All our days pass away under your wrath;

we finish our years with a moan.

The length of our days is seventy years-

or eighty, if we have the strength;

yet their span is but trouble and sorrow,

for they quickly pass, and we fly away.

For a week after Ma Belle died we surrounded Papa with our songs of love and listened as he sang his love to us. We wept, we laughed, we cried, we remembered God's faithfulness to us throughout the generations. Then Papa and I shared a quiet moment and he said, “Come Monday I'm going to need to start learning to live my life without her...but I don't want to.” He knew that by Monday we would all need to go and return to our busy lives and he would still be here grieving. But Monday never came. Papa died on Sunday. His was a heart full of love a heart full of wisdom and when it stopped beating he was ushered into the presents of God.

Who knows the power of your anger?

For your wrath is as great as the fear that is due you.

Teach us to number our days aright,

that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

“We've been mighty blessed!” This was a statement that Papa often made as he thought back through the years. Both Papa and Ma Belle had been from Christian families they had been taught from their earliest memories what the chief end of man was. In his nineties with a tear chocked voice he would say,”The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.” Then he would add, “Why, why have we been so blessed?” My answer was always the same,” Papa, you have been blessed to be a blessing. God has chosen you to be a living parable of what it looks like to know God and have His splendor show throughout the generations.”

Relent, O Lord! How long will it be?

Have compassion on your servants.

Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love,

that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.

Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,

for as many years as we have seen trouble.

May your deeds be shown to your servants,

your splendor to their children.

Ma Belle and Papa died one week apart. A week that was filled with stories of love and the faithfulness of a covenant keeping God. During this week we heard story after story after story about how the ancestors had committed their lives and plans to the Lord and how He had been faithful to establish the plans they had committed to Him. The day before Papa died I read Psalm 90 to him, the same same Psalm I have quoted here. He wept and spoke through his tears, “It is so, yes it is so.”

May the favor of the Lord our God rest upon us;

establish the work of our hands for us-

yes, establish the work of our hands.