Rejoicing through tears.

Our family knows both real hope and real grief much more personally, as this past week saw the promotion to glory of my mother-in-law (and in love), Beverly Haddock. I've just returned from being with my wife's family for the memorial services and time together, thus my absence from this and other normal activities. We rejoice that she is with the Lord, but the hole her departure leaves is painful to us all. The verse she chose for her memorial was characteristic of her life--Galatians 5:6b--"What matters is faith demonstrated in love."

Beverly lived an exemplary faith; one that has been passed on to her children and grandchildren. Her memory-making skills were the stuff of legend--every thing became more of an "event" because of her plans. Her compassion for others seemed to have no limits, although she sometimes did express impatience with those who just would not accept help and counsel. She was much more charitable in her opinions and evaluations than me, and I would like to think that she helped take some of the more pointy and prickly parts off of me.

So much was said by others in the services that spoke to my heart; and I had the chance to say my piece as well, but I don't think I can adequately express just how remarkable she was to us, and how much we have lost in her departure. On Saturday, she asked me to pray for her to know whether to stop her chemo treatments, which seemed to be draining her of what little life she had. The next Wednesday, she told the doctors that she had decided to forgo more treatments. Hospice came on Thursday, but the angels came on Monday. She was in some pain and her loving husband and partner of half a century, Hal, was holding her in his arms while on the bed next to her and praying for her as she slipped from Hal's arms to Jesus's.

The Lord loves his children, and loves to take them home--even though he knows it causes us pain. It can only mean that his love is so much better and his presence so much grander that in weighing our pain and his children's joy, he can only choose that which is best and most in tune with his loving, holy nature--and so he allows us the refinement of grief even as he dazzles Beverly with glory.