Yesterday, we buried my brother in law’s 84 year old mother. She lived a good and godly life. As the pastor read from several letters written to her on her 80th birthday by her children, in laws, and grandchildren, the words gave insight to those who didn’t know her well. The letters describe what kind of wife, mother, grandmother, in law, and friend she was. Although I knew “Winnie” Tohill for more than 25 years, I found myself desiring to be like her for the first time. I mean how often do you identify with an old lady? But yesterday, I did. I want to leave behind the same kind of godly legacy she built and left for her family.
Building and leaving a godly legacy is a wonderful thing. However, I also discovered a deeper truth. As we celebrated her entery into heaven and said our good-bys, I wept. I’m not sure why this caught me off guard. I find that I often cry at funerals whether or not I know the person well. For example, when I attended the funeral of a friend who lost her mother to cancer—whom I didn’t even know—I cried. I didn’t shed just a few tears. No. My tears soaked through several tissues.
Of course tears were a natural response at Winnie’s funeral. I will miss her. But I also cried because I knew the grief that my brother in law, sister, niece and nephew were experiencing. That’s the same reason I grieved for my friend at her mom’s funeral. Even though I didn’t know the deceased, I knew the daughter’s pain. I had experience that kind of loss—the loss of a loved one to death. I knew its sting; its pain and the hollow feeling it leaves behind.
Once you’ve experienced that kind of grief, you can identify with it in others. When I’m at a funeral, I feel the sorrow of those grieving and my natural reaction is to weep. Isn’t that what Jesus did at Lazarus’ funeral? He wept. Jesus was moved to tears at the sorrow that had engulfed his friends Mary and Martha. Christ cried, I believe, because he identity with their pain. “Yada” is the Greek word for know. It means there is a deep personal connection between persons where one can feel what the other feels. We have a High Priest who knows suffering on all levels. So when you and I hurt, Christ whisper’s “yada” into our ears. “I know.” He says. “I know your pain.” And He weeps with us. Christ also brings us comfort.
Through cards, hugs, meals, and the visits of others, Jesus brought me tangible comfort. Sometimes when I’d read the Word, I would find comfort. Other times it was an overwhelming sense of His presence as I prayed that blanketed me with comfort. In each instance, Christ was identifying with my pain and soothing its wound all at the same time. From my pain came a ministry of comfort to others.
A ministry of comfort is one of many beauties God brought out of my ugly situation. Through my loss, I’ve learned that whatever makes you and me cry is what we are called to heal. Let me ask you. “What makes you cry?” Is it starving children in a third world somewhere? Is it abuse; the brokenness that divorce leaves behind, moral corruption, those who are lost or enslaved to addiction? What makes you cry? Whatever it is God wants to use you to bring healing through a ministry of comfort. Don’t waste those tears. Ask God how you can help. You might be the answer to someone’s cry.
Amydeanne says
a great encouragement, especially for myself! thank-you!
Peggy says
What a comforting and charitable idea of using our tears! I really believe that you shed a new light onto grief and legacy! I have had to deal and
learn to cope with many losses and
found exactly what you said to be true. When I was in the depths of grief, my way out, besides the Comforter, was to begin to give to others that are hurting. As I gave, the Holy Spirit poured back into me with healing and comfort. Thank you for the lesson on “yada”! I never thought of “what makes me cry” is where God wants me to be a ministry of comfort or just minister. I cry alot, so I better get to work! How beautiful to know Christ will comfort me and someone else through me and no longer waste these tears!
Thank you for opening my eyes and grief to a new Hope, Inspiration and Service! For truly changing my mourning into dancing in His Presence with Joy and Comfort! I’m sorry for your loss but how wonderful when you can put it in the perspective of her legacy and a ministry of Comfort and knowing that Heaven rejoices!
joan says
Micca, thank you for the kind words about my mom, Winnie. I was reading today something written by Fr. Benedict Groeschel in The Living Faith pamplet, that said:
” Those in pain, sorrow and distress, those dying and those who wish they could die, those who bid farewell and those who must say good-bye, they all ask, Why?” If we must travel the way of sorrow, Jesus has walked it first. There is no suffering, no humiliation, no degradation (to be a condemned man, to die under sentence of capital punnishment when innocent) that he hasn’t endured. So we wait for eternity in that unspeakable expectation of what God has prepared for those who love him. But in the meantime we must march behind the cross.
We love you.
Joan
Laura says
How beautiful the image of Jesus whispering in our ears, “I know.” It gives me such comfort. Thank you, Dear, for sharing your sorrows and whispering the same to the many women you minister to. Bless you.
margij says
I almost never have the extra time to look at your blogs, even though I read the Proverbs 31 devotion everyday. I wanted you to know that I saw the obit. for Winnie Tohill and associated in with my former dentist, Maryjane and saw that indeed she was related. And now to read your blog and see that you are related to her as well is quite an AH HA moment. God moves in mysterious ways. I will lift them up in prayer during these days of adjustment. Thanks for your words about a life “well-lived”.