7 Bury the Dead

How fitting that we come to our final Corporal Work of Mercy, Bury the Dead, on Good Friday.

We could take this less literally and let die those weaknesses inside us that we keep alive: our anger, jealousy, bitterness, unwillingness to forgiven, bad habits, addictions, etc. However, even taken literally, the exhortation to Bury the Dead encompasses more people than our respected morticians.

We all ponder the big questions when the unexpectedness of death suddenly strikes an ordinary day. Even if we weren’t close to the one who died, we re-experience our own loss of loved ones. It’s as if grief, for a while, is cumulative. A death makes us reconsider our life. Why am I here? What purpose should I be pursuing while I still have time? What happens after death? Will I see my loved one again?

We bury the dead when we:

• Attend memorial services, where we honor the memory of the one who has passed and support the families in their recovery. It means so much to a grieving family to see the number of people who attend as a living memorial to their loved one, or as a sign of promised support to themselves.
• Send a sympathy card with a note, perhaps including a happy memory of the deceased.
• Provide a simple service to the grieving family. I’ve heard of one person delivering a case of toilet paper to a home in preparation for visiting family. Another gave a book of stamps, anticipating the thank you notes that would be written and mailed. One woman offered to babysit the youngest children during the funeral. Another offered to sit in the empty home during the service to ward off burglars who see the announcement in the paper.
• Call when travelling visitors have returned home and the grief stricken is suddenly very alone.
• Or, sit with the newly aggrieved and listen to their reminiscence about their loved one…

Night Shift

A middle-aged man sat on a boulder near a hiking trail gazing at a panorama of night sky. As the moon began to rise, he spoke aloud.

Thank you, heavenly Father, for all your gifts to us.

For the stars above us, the galaxies, and our solar system with its sun, moon, and planets.

For this earth and its beautiful oceans, mountains, forests, rivers, and waterfalls.

For our country and its dedication to freedom and justice.

For our ancestors, especially those who chose to uphold their faith and those who left their homes to make new homes here.

For our grandparents, aunts, uncles, and all the people we loved who have left this life. May we see them again in heaven.

For our parents who sacrificed to give us the life we have now.

Thank you for our siblings and our friends who helped make us the people we are today.

Thank you for our children, who make us proud as they grow into good people. Please draw them ever closer to you.

Thank you for my spouse, my beautiful wife, one of your greatest gifts to me, who loved me as deeply as I loved her…

“What a beautiful prayer!”

The man startled at the woman’s voice.

“May I sit down with you?”

He scooted to one side of the rock.

“You’ve chosen a lovely place to pray.”

He stared straight ahead, hoping if he didn’t answer she would leave him to his solitude. She didn’t move or speak then, but simply regarded the starry heavens as he had been doing. Finally, he gave up. “It was my father’s prayer. I used to only hear it when we were camping together. It was how he ended our conversation when we were lying in our sleeping bags under the stars.”

“You were close.”

“On camping trips, yes. At home we were both busy with our lives—his work, my studies—but out here was something else.”

“Your mother had passed on?”

“When I was in high school. He never remarried, or even dated that I know. They were devoted to each other, and I doubt anyone else could have filled her void.”

“And your father? You said it was his prayer.”

He looked at her then, and saw a serene woman, middle-aged, with amazing compassion in her eyes. “He died today.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat.

She rested her hand on his. “I’m sorry for your loss and sadness. He must have been quite a man.”

“He was.” He nodded slowly. “He hasn’t said a word for over a year. Last night, I visited him in his care center, and he was talking to Mom. She wasn’t there, of course, but she was real to him. He was the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. Then this morning he was gone. It was as if…”

“As if she’d come for him?”

He drew in a quick breath, for she had known just what he was thinking. He looked at her. “Do you think it’s possible?”

“I know it is,” she said. “And now they are both watching over you. They are together in the next life, and together in loving you, so proud of the man you’ve become and so grateful for how you took care of your father in his final years.”

“I wish I could have kept him at home with me.”

“He knows. And he knows you did what was best for him. Be at peace, Jonathon. All is well.”

She stood and continued down the trail before he wondered about her walking without a light, and before he realized he hadn’t told her his name.

(Excerpt from my Miriam’s Joy!, but the prayer was first spoken by my husband, George.)

May God bless your Easter and protect your health.

6 Comfort the Sick

How might we comfort the sick, especially now that we must maintain our distance?

• Send flowers or fruit or candy.
• Write the ailing person a letter. Send a card.
• Bring soup, or a meal for the rest of the family.
• Donate for research to the Cancer Society or a similar foundation.
• Phone someone who is sick. Try FaceTime on a smart phone so they can see you, too.
• Or, when it is allowed, sit with them and offer comfort and encouragement.

Night Shift

Martha was a bit confused. Feeling muddled struck more and more often lately, but it certainly seemed that her favorite statue of Mary had climbed down off its shelf and was now sitting with her on her bed.

“What are you looking at?” Asked Miriam, pointing to papers in Martha’s hands.

“Results from a memory test I took,” Martha answered. “My children arranged it. They are arranging a lot of things lately.”

“They love you and worry about you. What do the results say?”

“Moderate dementia.” Martha shrugged. “I suppose it’s true. Lately I show up for things either at the wrong time or on the wrong day. I can’t remember all my grandchildren’s names, let alone the great-grandchildren. My son says I have four great-great grandchildren, but that can’t be true. I’m not that old.”

“What a Godsend to see your family grow!” Miriam said to the elderly woman. “One of the blessings in the Bible is to see your children’s children. Very few get to live long enough to see as many generations as you.”

“But now it seems I am outliving my mind. Losing important memories. And I suppose it will only get worse.” Martha set down the papers and removed her reading glasses. “Who am I, if not a collection of the memories of my life? Who will remember my story when I can’t?”

“The diseases of this life that slowly take away a person’s memories are certainly a sorrow. But you know the Father can turn even this to good.”

“What good can it possibly be to slowly stop knowing all I worked so many years to learn? What worth is there in the remainder of a life like that?”

“Martha,” Miriam said softly, “isn’t a newborn’s life a precious treasure, even though he or she holds no memories?”

Martha scowled, suspecting where this line of thought was going, so Miriam continued. “That little bundle of joy and demands can teach a parent to discover what it is to love unconditionally, even though the newborn gives nothing in return, not even a smile until it is older.”

The statue-now-woman looked intently into Martha’s eyes. “We don’t understand all God’s ways, or how He works all things for good, even devastating things like this, but perhaps He is giving your family and friends and caretakers a gift by allowing them to serve you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden to anyone! I want to continue to be useful, to help people!” Martha would have stomped her foot if she hadn’t been sitting on her bed where her feet didn’t reach the floor.

“And bless you for that desire. But believe me, as difficult as the time ahead may be for everyone, eventually your family will look back and count your final days with them as a blessing. Yes, they will be sad if you reach a point when you don’t know who they are anymore, but they will know you! They will carry the memories of you as precious gifts. And have faith; you will rise whole and healthy again in the next life. This suffering is temporary, and your reward will be immeasurable and permanent!”

Martha sighed. “Aging seems to be a tiresome series of letting go, one thing after another. I miss my own home, and yes, I’m grateful, of course, that my son has taken me into his home, but I miss my healthy, flexible body. I miss being able to eat whatever I wanted before I had to start watching my salt intake, my cholesterol levels, or my blood sugar. I miss driving! Must I really let go of my memories, too?”

“Only God knows what lies ahead, but I promise you, He is good: all loving, all merciful, all wise. He will be with you.”

Martha nodded. Yes, there was comfort in that, knowing He would be with her, even if she no longer knew Him. She bowed her head—and her will—and did what she had done many times before. She placed herself in His hands and her life at His disposal. With that came peace.

When she looked up again, she laughed to see her Mary statue back on the shelf, with the same serene face she always wore. Had her statue truly climbed down and joined her on her bed? Maybe it didn’t matter. Her future might not always allow her to tell what was real and what wasn’t, but Martha knew that tonight’s message touched her heart with profound truth.

(Excerpt from my Miriam’s Joy!)

May God bless your week and protect your health.

5 Shelter the Homeless

How might we Shelter the Homeless?

• Donate to safe houses.
• Host a foreign exchange student.
• Sponsor a fundraiser for shelters.
• Volunteer for Habitat for Humanity.
• Become a foster parent or consider adoption.
• Offer to do repair work for a neighbor in need.
• Welcome a person in transition to live with you for a while.
• Or, drive someone to safety…

Night Shift

In a different part of town, Miriam parked a borrowed minivan in front of a house, just as a young woman fled out its door, carrying a baby about six months old. An angry man was not far behind the woman, raising a crowbar and screaming, “You get back here, or I swear I’ll kill you both!”

Miriam reached across the seat and opened the passenger’s door and called, “Tiana, jump in!”

Tiana did, slammed the car door behind her, and Miriam sped away, leaving an irate man screaming in the street. He threw the crowbar like a javelin, but it missed its target.

After several turns, and when both women were sure they weren’t followed, Miriam parked long enough for Tiana to strap her daughter into the baby seat in the back. As soon as she was back in the minivan, Miriam began driving again.

Tiana said, “Thank you, Jesus, for putting as much distance between me and that man as we can.” Then she really looked at Miriam. “Who are you? I thought you were my mother. Your voice sounded just like hers, or I might not have jumped into your car. How did you know I needed you right then?”

Miriam, with skin darker than Tiana’s and dressed like older women from the islands, smiled a bright white smile. “Child, my name is Miriam, and I guess I was in the right place at the right time, praise God. Was that your husband?”

“Well, he’s my daughter’s father. He’s not that bad most of the time.” She sounded defensive and then softened her voice. “And I love him.”

“Mmm hmm,” Miriam said, and her tone spoke volumes.

“I do, God help me, I do,” said Tiana.

“Love is one thing, and safety is another,” said Miriam. “Men can forfeit the right to be with their families by hurting women or children. Your little Jayda, there, depends on you to keep her safe.”

“I’d never let him hurt her!”

“You wouldn’t mean to, but his anger seems unpredictable and out of control.”

“Usually I can see it coming, but not always,” she admitted. “Sometimes it isn’t me he’s angry with at all, but I’m the one who’s available.”

“Tiana, you would give your life for this baby, am I right?”

Tiana turned to check on her daughter in the backseat. “Absolutely.”

“Then for now, you need to sacrifice your feelings for her daddy and protect her. He’s wounded and you can’t fix him, but it’s possible that losing you two might be just what he needs to make him get help. Promise me you won’t go back to him until someone professional assures you he’s done the work and can control his temper. Will you promise me that?”

“But where will I go in the meantime?”

Miriam pulled the minivan in front of an ordinary looking, but large house and parked. “Promise me?”

Tiana looked back at her baby, who was now sweetly snoring in the car seat. “Yes, ma’am. I promise.”

This is a safe house. They are expecting you and will help you both along the way.”

“But…” Tiana shook her head in confusion. “How did you know?”

“Your mama’s been talking to me, child. Now scoot! Off you go.”

Tiana climbed out of the car, lifted Jayda out of the car seat, and hesitated before closing the door.

“Know you are very, very loved,” said Miriam.

“Thank you,” said Tiana with a nod. Then she closed the car door with a quiet click, straightened her back, and walked up to the home. Before she even knocked, the door swung open to her future.

(Excerpted from my Miriam’s Joy!)