Good morning…
“Thank you, Sue,” he emailed me yesterday. “We all struggle with the fact that we have a deep and abiding love for others, even though we know with certainty that some will outrun us to the Father’s house. In a way, it is comforting to know that people have struggled with this reality for centuries. I am always reminded of that when I read this awesome poem by Yehuda HaLevi, a Jewish philosopher, poet and physician who lived in Spain from 1075 to 1141.”
‘Tis a fearful thing
to love what death can touch.
A fearful thing
to love, to hope, to dream, to be –
to be,
And oh, to lose.
A thing for fools, this,
And a holy thing,
a holy thing
to love.
For your life has lived in me,
your laugh once lifted me,
your word was gift to me.
To remember this brings painful joy.
‘Tis a human thing, love,
a holy thing, to love
what death has touched.
“Life here on earth is a wonderful and difficult journey,” he concluded. “May the love of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ continue to sustain and inspire you in your ministry, dear friend.”
To love what death can touch is risky. To love what death has touched gives us grieve to process with God and with each other.
Brothers and sisters, we want you to be fully informed about those who have fallen asleep in death so that you will not be overwhelmed with grief like those who live outside of the true hope. Here’s what we believe: since Jesus died and rose again, in the same way, God will bring with Jesus all who have died through Him (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14, VOICE).
As together we process our grief, we ground our true hope in what Jesus lovingly promised before he died and rose: “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (John 12:32, LEB).
…Sue…
