I am particapating in a funeral today. We don't use the word funeral very often these days, usually a memorial or celebration service. But this one certainly isn't a celebration, it's a tragety.
The sevice is for a young lady, 29, who died of alcohal poisoning. I don't know her and don't know much about the circumstances surrounding this situation. I just know that the husband asked if I would sing, so I will, but it is so sad. We actually don't know much if anything about her faith, whether she came to Christ as some point and strayed, or was a Christian addicted to alcohol or what. I just know if it takes the faith the size of a mustard seed to move a mountain, which is pretty minuscule, then if there was a speck of faith in her troubled heart, Jesus would respond to it like it was the size of a 5 carrot diamond.
Recently a friend of mine observed in his blog the heart of the Father, as revealed in the heart of the prodigals father. He made the point that when the father was standing scanning the horizon in the hopes of seeing his son, he had no idea what the son had gone through, no idea that he had hit bottom, no idea that he was returning with a repentant heart, but he stood, he watched, he hoped and when the son came into view his heart lept with joy and he held his arms open wide, his soud flooded with love and relief.
I don't know the heart of this young women, no human being really did, all I know is if she even glanced toward God He took notice and has now welcomed her with a warm, forgiving and loving embrace.
I know that my hope is just that, it is hope that all we read, all that we see revealed in Jesus will no longer be hope, but be realized as we are welcomed home.
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