I'm still gasping for air.
Braden died 9 days ago. I spent time this morning at his gravesite. Laura asked me "what is it about being there that helps you?" Sentences began to roll from my lips in a staccato fashion as though I needed to convince her that it wasn't a silly investment of time. Of course, she didn't need that from me. She is his grandmother and swimming in the same sea of pain I feel over his loss.
The person needing convincing, permission really--was me. He isn't there. He is with Messiah--Paul instructed us clearly, "to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord (Philippians)." Yet I find myself drawn to that place where we carefully, lovingly, thoughtfully laid his body; why?
I believe it's because Braden was fearfully, wonderfully made, knit together in his mother's womb and known in eternity past by God, fashioned in the image of God, creator of the universe. His body bore that image. He isn't in that body anymore, but it's all I have left till I join him on the other side of that portal to eternity, when we will stand together with that "great cloud of witnesses" in the presence of the King.
So we established a "stone of remembrance" in that place; it helps me to remember him, it gives me a quiet place to go and reflect, to talk with God about my pain and to honor Braden's life, his legacy.
A "stone of remembrance..."
Liveitwell!
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