This is another good one from Chuck Keortge! Thanks Chuck for the email!
Wrong Funeral
Consumed by my loss, I didn't notice the hardness
of the pew where I sat. I was at the funeral of my dearest friend - my mother.
She finally had lost her long battle with cancer. The hurt was so intense; I
found it hard to breathe at times. Always supportive, Mother clapped loudest at
my school plays, held box of tissues while listening to my first heartbreak,
comforted me at my father's death, encouraged me in college, and prayed for me
my entire life.
When mother’s illness was diagnosed, my sister had
a new baby and my brother had recently married his childhood sweetheart, so it
fell on me, the 27-year-old middle child without entanglements, to take care of
her. I counted it an honor. 'What now, Lord?' I asked sitting in church.
My life stretched out before me as an empty abyss.
My brother sat stoically with his face toward the cross while clutching his
wife's hand. My sister sat slumped against her husband’s shoulder, his arms
around her as she cradled their child... All so deeply grieving, no one noticed
I sat alone. My place had been with our mother, preparing her meals, helping
her walk, taking her to the doctor, seeing to her medication, reading the Bible
together. Now she was with the Lord. My work was finished, and I was alone.
I heard a door open and slam shut at the back of
the church. Quick footsteps hurried along the carpeted floor. An exasperated
young man looked around briefly and then sat next to me. He folded his hands
and placed them on his lap. His eyes were brimming with tears. He began to
sniffle. 'I'm late,' he explained, though no explanation was necessary.
After several eulogies, he leaned over and
commented, 'Why do they keep calling Mary by the name of 'Margaret?'' 'Because,
that was her name, Margaret. Never Mary, no one called her 'Mary,'' I
whispered.
I wondered why this person couldn't have sat on the
other side of the church. He interrupted my grieving with his tears and
fidgeting. Who was this stranger anyway?
'No, that isn't correct,' he insisted, as several
people glanced over at us whispering, 'Her name is Mary, Mary Peters.' 'That
isn't who this is.'
'Isn't this the Lutheran church?'
'No, the Lutheran church is across the street.'
'Oh.'
'I believe you're at the wrong funeral, Sir.' The
solemnness of the occasion mixed with the realization of the man's mistake
bubbled up inside me and came out as laughter. I cupped my hands over my face,
hoping it would be interpreted as sobs. The creaking pew gave me away. Sharp
looks from other mourners only made the situation seem more hilarious.
I peeked at the bewildered, misguided man seated
beside me. He was laughing; too, as he glanced around, deciding it was too late
for an uneventful exit. I imagined Mother laughing.
At the final 'Amen,' we darted out a door and into
the parking lot. 'I do believe we'll be the talk of the town,' he said,
smiling. He said his name was Rick and since he had missed his aunt's funeral,
asked me out for a cup of coffee.
That afternoon began a lifelong journey for me with
this man who attended the wrong funeral, but was in the right place. A year
after our meeting, we were married at a country church where he was the
assistant pastor.
This time we both arrived at the same church, right
on time... In my time of sorrow, God gave me laughter. In place of loneliness,
God gave me love. Thispast June, we celebrated our 22nd wedding anniversary.
Whenever anyone asks us how we met, Rick tells them, 'Her mother and my Aunt
Mary introduced us, and it's truly a match made in heaven.'
If you Love God, and are not ashamed of all the
marvelous things he has done for you, send this on to others. REMEMBER, God
doesn't make mistakes. He puts us where we are to be.
