Death has lost it's sting. . .

In the past four months, both Andres and I have attended a memorial service for our co-worker's son, both in their early 20's, both born to die, both living with the King.

Yesterday, it was my turn. I was so anxious to see the face of the strong woman that I've known his mother to be. She's no taller than I, but her mind is of extraordinary wisdom and knowledge. Not just book knowledge, but true, meaningful wisdom, given without apology. She's a strong, wonderful woman, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to see her at such a vulnerable state. Would she appear worn down from the two week wait to bury her son? Would she be shaking her fist at God, wondering why? Would she seem numb to her circumstances? Or would she lift her hands in praise that He is still in the moment?

As I turned on the car to make my way, I played the song "Finest Hour" by Matthew West. "This is my finest hour...." If what He says is true, then this is her finest hour. Through death, will come more life. Death has lost it's sting! Death no longer means the end to which we live life, rather the beginning of our eternity. I sang that song very loud for her. In my prayers, I placed her in the hands of her Heavenly Father and gripped my heart for what would come.

As I walked into the foyer of the church, I realized there was a line, leading up to the sweet, strong woman wearing yellow. Yellow? Yellow! To represent the "Son", to represent "joy", to represent the season in which her son's life was called for.

I gave her hug that lasted for a moment's time. I whispered to her that this is her finest hour, and she whispered to me that this is the end of times. "We are living the last days."

On the mountains of Sofia, Bulgaria, he took his last breath. He marveled at the Creator's creation, and fell asleep amongst the arms of trees, clouds, and white snow. He woke up standing before the Creator of such miraculous places and embraced his father, his Heavenly Father.

Father, may we enjoy the laughter of our children, or even the moments of frustration. May we see the mundane chores like filling up our car full of gas, as an opportunity to travel your distances. May we breathe deeply in the morning because you chose to give us another day to commune with our family and friends. May we rejoice over the grass we have to cut, for their is life in that grass or we wouldn't have to cut it. May your Spirit speak to us in every moment we live out.

I love you with all my heart, and I pray the day I take my last breath, more life would be given because of the testimony I live out. May my light shine for you beyond my physical presence. May the girls always assign their mom the color yellow. The color that represents the "Son", and the joy that comes in the morning! May my husband feel full from the life that we lived together. May he never look back and find empty pockets. Thank you for our beginnings!