Saturday, June 5, 2010

Rainy Funeral Day Reflections

The rain drip drip, drips. The lilac outside my window twitches as raindrops gently wash leaves.


Appropriate on the day of a funeral.

I did not know the deceased well. I’d met him once or twice. He stayed away for fear. Fear of rejection, I suppose, because we call ourselves by the name of Christ. He never pursued grace. He never came near enough to find that we were broken too.

Broken, then forgiven. Made whole by Grace and Love and surrender.

Some are vocal about his lifestyle. I wonder, do they know any of these people personally? Do they see the hurt that led them there? Do they hear with their hearts the cry for wholeness?

I think not.

How is their sin any different than mine? My pride. My gossip. My anger. If I am going to call his sin out by name, then I call mine out too.

All sin separates. Sin destroys. All sin destroys.

Christ is not pleased by attacking those trapped in sin. He died for them, too.

He offers himself and pleads, “Go, and sin no more.”

The rain drip, drips.


I wish he’d known its cleaning power. I wish he’d been Living Water cleansed, filled so full that he would never thirst again.

I grieve. Not just for him, but for all who die that never really lived.

He speaks. "Go. Sin no more. Drink. Be filled."

The rain drip, drips.

Are you listening?