It rained yesterday. Fitting for a day of mourning the loss of a young life. The showers continued throughout the funeral, burial and the gathering at the family’s home. Ironic, as the young girl hated rain; a brutal reminder of the deep despair she was holding inside for so long. But although the sky bled its cold, wet tears on those who grieved, glimpses of sunlight abounded throughout the day.
Not surprised by the hundreds, perhaps over a thousand, people that came to pay their respects to the family at the First Baptist Church in downtown Minneapolis. Not surprised by the many young people, mostly high school students who knew and loved the young lady. Not surprised when my oldest son grabbed and hugged his dear friend, the brother of the young lady who took her own life.
The first glimpse of sunlight was apparent while I noticed another friend of my fourteen year old son enter the massive sanctuary, dressed in trousers, an oxford and shiny black shoes. One couldn’t help but smile at this sports-minded young man all dressed up for this sad occasion. But it wasn’t his choice of clothing that touched me; it was that he was alone. This young man chose to attend a funeral of a young lady who took her own life, with no parent or adult to support him. He was dropped off at the church with instructions to call his father when he was ready to be picked up. My first instinct was to be angry at his parents for doing such a thing…but as we spoke to him after the service it dawned on me that he was sent by the Lord as a light of hope.
It was still raining heavily when we arrived at the family’s home to pay our respects to the young ladies father, who had not attended the funeral, customary to tradition of their culture. We slowly entered the large home, finding hundreds of friends and relatives crowding the rooms and hallways. We were greeted by a lovely aunt. She walked us directly to the father sitting on the couch; clearly exhausted and distraught by the death of his lovely daughter. The aunt, still holding my arm, her touch felt like an angel. Her beauty shined from the inside out; so grateful that we were there for her family. My husband placed his hands on the father’s shoulder and prayed for him in front of his loving relatives. My husband, my light, my sunshine, shared his gift of comforting words blessed by the Lord at a time needed most.
But finally, a mother’s heart was touched so deeply, when my son escorted his friend upstairs as he was afraid to enter his own room. He hadn’t been home since the death of his sister. It was too painful. But it was my son that walked with him up the long sprawling staircase to help confront his sadness and fears. Completely unknown to Owen, the Light of the Lord shined through him and gave him this strength.
I’ll never understand the pain of this family, the pain my son’s friend will have for a lifetime. But I saw sunshine on a rainy day, from those that have blessed my life. So I leave you with these words today…as tough as life may seem look for the light in those around you. It is there. And it is remarkable.
