Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Matthew 5:4 NIV
I have to admit, I've read this verse over and over as part of the Beatitudes, and never really gave it much thought. Yeah, yeah, the poor are blessed, the meek are blessed, the hungry and thirsty are blessed. But it sure is kind of hard to see the blessing when you are in the middle of being hungry or mourning the loss of a loved one. Where is the blessing in loosing someone who was one of the single most important people in your world?
Mema's been gone almost six months. Sometimes I miss her so much it hurts. I see a woman walking through Walmart, and for half a second out of the corner of my eye.... No, not her. Something wonderful or tragic happens and I pick up the phone to call... Oh, yeah. Nevermind. Where's the blessing?
Then I think about that day in the hospital when we knew it was the end. I called my friend, Marsha and she hopped out of bed early that Saturday morning and sped to the hospital with a bag of diet sodas and a box of Puffs. (Really, she sped. The police officer took pitty on her when he saw her genuine tears.) Then, there's my friend Molly who showed up early that afternoon with a tray of fruit, some chocolate, another box of tissues, and those little whispy toothbrush things. There's my friends Jennifer and Kellie who took such good care of my daughter while emotions were running high and I just needed to be "Granddaugher" and save "Mommy" for another day. The hospital staff. Our family members. Our pastors and church family. They all gathered as we awaited her homegoing. And I was comforted. I was blessed.
In the days and weeks that followed, I kept thinking back on that time in the ICU waiting room, and on all of the cards, flowers, donations to Susan G. Komen, and hugs that followed. Mema was loved and honored, and I was blessed.
Friday, in the park down the street from our church, a tragedy happened. A 9 year-old girl was digging a tunnel in the sand. It caved in on her and she was found, dead. My heart is heavy for the family of that little girl. They didn't have any warning. They didn't get to say goodbye. They let their precious child go to the park to play and she never came home. Right now they are mourning. I sure hope they will someday look back and feel blessed. I'm not sure how, but the Bible says they will be. Blessed doesn't mean you get what you want. It means you get what you need. Sometimes we look at being blessed as having more than enough. But in times like these, we must look to God as our portion--for today. And tomorrow, we have to look to Him as our portion again--for that day. Day by day, we get what we need, and we are blessed.
My mother reminded me today of when Mema used to sit on the bench at school and wait for the girls. Her group of special children grew and grew. She would sit there and wait on them to get out of school so she could hug them and ask them about their day. Momma thinks Mema was up in heaven, sitting on the bench, waiting on Hannah. And she's hugging her, asking her about her day, and showing her all over heaven. I like the thought of that. The Bible says that in Heaven, we will be known as we are known here on earth. I think the children in Heaven will know that my Mema will be their Mema too.
