G in his tent

I have learned a lot in the last year.  Add "never leave the house without tissues" to the list.  Paul and I went to a funeral last night (ahh...date nights).  Now, anyone would think to bring kleenex to a memorial service, right?  The thing is, this was the father of a friend (I didn't know him), who had a poor quality of life for years from illness, was 98, and went to heaven.  Honestly, I was happy for him (just sad for our friend).  Between that and rushing out the door, I had definitely not prepared myself emotionally.

We get there, give our condolences to the family, and sit down....and Paul and I whisper back and forth about how long we think it will last and where we will eat afterwards:).  Then, I look at the service program and see the verse "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." (Ps 116:15)....and my lip starts to tremble.  Oh no.  And then several scriptures are read....and by this time there are tears running down my face.  There is no going back at this point-the switch has been flipped--I am crying. Crap!  My sweet husband leans over and says, rather confused, "Gina, you didn't know him."  More tears.  Snot.  And then, "But, Gina, you have never even met him!".  This got me tickled and the emotions morphed into a laugh/cry (if you were sitting behind me at New Prospect Church in South Knoxville last night, I am sorry).  I was able to "pull it together"....until "How Great Thou Art".  That did it....waterworks ala The Notebook.

"If we ever go to a funeral of someone we know, you are screwed."--this is what Paul says when we get to the car.  Ahh, the compassion! :)  Anyway, all I could think was that someday, we might be 'there' celebrating Lilah's life.  I won't go into too much detail, because I really try to not dwell in those kind of thoughts.  But then, the thought hit me "what if something happens to me?".  I could type for days on the burden of being her primary care taker, but that's another discussion.  

When trying to explain my emotion to Paul, all I could get out was "this is the first funeral since".  Since our baby almost died.  Since she lived.  Since she was diagnosed.  Since our whole lives were turned upside down.  Since everything is different.  Everything is different.  Or maybe everything is the same and I am different.  Or maybe everything is the same and I just see things differently.  Crazy as it sounds, I'm thankful for the 'vision change'....things seem clearer.

Found this "optional" verse--love it!

When burdens press, and seem beyond endurance,
Bowed down with grief, to Him I lift my face;
And then in love He brings me sweet assurance:
'My child! for thee sufficient is my grace