Tonight I sat in a little Italian restaurant in Saratoga
Springs, NY thinking about life and death and the things that are most precious
to us.
I am
truly convinced that the most precious gift we have in life is the gift of our
families, of our loved ones and our friends.
God lets us view his love for us through the people who love us and whom
we love. Sometimes they aren’t the
nicest, or happiest, or best people.
Sometimes they hurt us and sometimes we hurt them. Sometimes we take them for granted and sometimes
they take us for granted. Sometimes we
don’t realize the very special moments we have when we have them and sometimes
we can treasure up those moments forever.
Nowhere
is this more true than when we lose someone close to us. Nothing can replace a person when we can no
longer look at them, no longer hold them, or touch them, or hear them, or be
annoyed by them. It is in those moments
when we realize the magnitude of our loss and the enormity of our isolation.
The
beautiful things about people is that no one’s relationship is quite the same
and no one can experience the same person in exactly the same way. Think of a mother when she holds her baby the
first time. That baby is going to grow
up, make friends, laugh, jump, play, get a job, drive a car and all sorts of wonderful
things. But the mother who is there
moments after that baby came into the world has a unique experience of that
person that nobody else can lay claim to.
When we think of the special people in our lives, what do we think of?
Who do we think of?
There
are so many special memories I have. I
remember one day when I was a pastor, and it was raining and there was a loud
crack of thunder and my oldest daughter leapt in my arms. It was the first time I felt truly needed by
my daughter. I remember the way my other
daughter laughs when she thinks she is being funny. I remember the way my mom used to make
pretend that Gingerbread cookies had voices and cried out in pain when we ate
them (yes…that explains a great deal about me).
I remember my wedding day with all of the nervousness and excitement
that was going on in those moments.
I
wonder what people remember about me sometimes.
Do people just remember the way I irritated them or the funny things I
do? Do people remember that I tried to sing and dance my way through the Pajama Game? Do people remember the
times I loved them, the times I hated them? Do people remember my anger, my
frustration, my nerdiness?
As I
write this, I am preparing to help a family say good bye to their son. I never met their son and so I do not have
any memories to share. But I think about
their loss and I cannot comprehend what it must be like to say good bye to a
person you gave birth to. Or a son that
you nurtured and loved. Do you think
about their tiny feet and the way they smiled and laughed? Do you think about the
way they broke the furniture or made you so mad that you didn’t know what to
say or to do?
Sartre
was famous for saying that “hell is other people,” as if all you needed was
contained within yourself and other people merely served to distract you from that. I think just the opposite, I think that
heaven is other people. Because as we
love and experience love, we can truly see the face of God.
Enjoy the
people you are with, because you won’t have them forever. Treasure each moment, each memory, each special
time you have…this day and every day.
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