Yesterday they buried my brother-in law- and my best friend, Mark. After a beautiful service, we drove to the cemetery, prayed during a brief graveside service, placed flowers on the casket, and said our goodbyes. We then returned to our cars and went to a repast.

And then life goes on.

Or it’s supposed to.

And it will, of course, but it’ll never be the same. It can’t be. How can anything be the same when a huge part of one’s life is missing?

I’ll turn to see Mark, and he won’t be there. I’ll think of something funny to share, but he won’t be there to share it with. I’ll think of his unqiue sayings and instead of laughing, I’ll feel am emptiness inside because I’ll never hear those words, from Mark at least, ever again.

We’re supposed to move forward – and we do. But it’s never the same.

***

I remember being nine-years-old when a great uncle of mine passed away.

I was eleven when my grandma’s sister died.

My grandfather died about a month later. That was a tough time. It was when I first really understood that dying is part of life. Grandpa dying didn’t make sense. He was healthy. He was out square dancing with my grandma. He wasn’t sick. He just…died.

***

I remember only one part of the minister’s sermon at my grandpa’s funeral. He said that when we cry in times like this, we’re crying only for ourselves, because the person who passed is in a better place. That person is with the Lord.

I didn’t quite understand that then, but I do now – and have for quite some time.

We’re sad because we miss the person here at home, but that person is with God and Jesus. That person is, absolutely, in a better place.

In the past when people wrote obituaries, they often listed those who had passed before with words like, “He was predeceased by…” Today it’s often phrased in a different, and better, way, “He was welcomed in Heaven by his grandparents…”

“Predeceased” seems so final. It feels so very cold.

“Welcomed into Heaven” is so much more hopeful and inviting. And it’s more accurate and true. I’m sure we all look for a day when we’re welcomed into Heaven.

Even thouse who struggle with their beliefs, even those who don’t believe, I think, deep down, hope that when that day comes, they’re welcomed into Heaven.

***

In the eulogy I delivered yesterday I said, in part, “Before we get too sad, or more precisely, sadder than we already are, we have to remember, it’s essential that we all remember, that Mark is now in a better place. 

The other day, Mark got to see Jesus face-to-face.  He got to embrace Christ, he got to look into his eyes, and he was able to feel and be present in His very being. Mark got to know that from that moment on, until forever, that all will be well.  Mark is with the Lord.”

I believe that, absolutely. 100%. In fact, I have no doubt about that. Mark is home. He’s in God’s eternal glory.

And one day, we’ll all be with him again.

***

I’m not a minister. I’m not ordained. But, for many years, I have been asked to preach, to give sermons, to speak at conferences, to run church services, and to help others find, build, grow, or strengthen their faith.

I have been asked, “How can you be so sure of God’s grace?” I have only one short answer, and it’s often unsatisfactory to the person who asks.

I tell them, “I just know.”

There have been enough times in my life, when I have felt God’s presence.

I pray a lot. Those who know my running habits know that I say The Lord’s Prayer during each mile that I run. All of this brings me closer to God, closer to Jesus.

Last year I read the Bible in its entirety. I’m doing it again this year…

I talk to people about their faith. I read books about faith (including the Bible).

The more I read, the more I study, the more assured I become in my faith and in God and Jesus, and in love and goodness and hope, and so much more.

I’m working on a great sermon that seeks to understand and explain the difference between believing, having faith, and knowing. I think in life we find ourselves, at various times, at different places along that spectrum.

***

Many years back, my father had a tracheotomy. The doctor said he’d never talk again. I prayed a lot. I wanted my dad to speak again. We were told he wouldn’t, he couldn’t, talk… his vocal cords were frozen.

I remember praying and then looking up to the sky. It was different somehow. I had never seen the sun so big and strong and warm. It was the same sun in the sky, of course, but it seemed different. I felt a certain sense of peace, that things were going to be okay.

My dad started speaking that day.

***

The morning that her father died, my other grandpa, in the depths of winter, my mom saw a bird outside the window. It made no sense for a bird to be there, but that bird filled my mom with peace, a different kind of peace, a peace she hadn’t really ever felt before.

A few hours later, my grandma called and told us that Grandpa had passed away.

***

I have a journal where I write down various passages from The Bible as I come across them. When certain passages resonate with me, when they touch me, when they make me think, when they bring me closer to Jesus and to God, I write them down.

Exodus 15:2 reads: “The Lord is my strength and my might, and he has become my salvation.”

Numbers 23:19 reminds us that, “God always keeps his promises.”

Psalm 136 teaches us to “Give thanks to the Lord for he is good. His love endures forever.”

And, of course, In John 11:25 we read, “Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.'”

***

I’m sad. I’ve been sad all week. I’ll be sad for a good time to come because an important part of my life is no longer with me. My brother-in-law, my dear best friend, isn’t with me. That leaves me empty.

But I take great comfort in knowing that Mark is in a better place. He is with the Lord. And one day, God willing, I’ll see him again.