When the preacher rose to speak, I knew this was it. For a moment, my naivety believed in the man of cloth. And when he talked about Lazarus, my doubts were cleared.
But then the procession carried the casket, and I wanted to shout, wait! Why didn’t anyone see what I was seeing. He’s just asleep, and he’s going to wake up. You wait and see.
Then he was slowly let down on earth. The final prayer was said and dirt was poured. The mom wailed, the wife screamed, the brother sobbed.
Then reality instantly hit me.
It wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t asleep, he was gone. No one would wake him up ever again.
If I can love, I’m going to do so. And if I can enjoy life, allow me to. Because no one is promised tomorrow. And no one knows of His divine plan.
As we close the year, I’m dedicating this piece to everyone we’ve lost along the way. Rest in Peace!
The next post comes next year. Happy Holidays everyone! 🤶🎄