The mystery
I mentioned that Emma died (4th August). The family's doing what we used to do all the time in the old days—they're having the funeral oration in the house where the body is kept until burial. The little house is jammed full with family and friends who want to say goodbye and my nephew, Alex, is talking about Emma. He's close to the entire family and got on especially well with Emma so he's the right man to tell everyone here what they already know—how fine Emma was, what a sweet spirit she had and how ready she was to make the transition. He stressed of course that what makes any of us worth talking about is our likeness to Jesus Christ and that he's the one that makes us worthy to enter the presence of the Holy Father.
I'm watching all the sad people and I understand that while Alex is talking and they're listening it's still true that their minds are wandering to places where they and Emma went together and shared special moments. I'm thinking that a person is more than one person—isn't that true? Now and then when my Ethel is talking to some others and I overhear or watch from a distance, I see a different woman—one I'm not completely familiar with. They go together down lanes and avenues she and I don't travel and they bring out of her responses that I never have occasion to see. I'm reminded of the mystery that every person must always remain even to those who know them well. There's too much to know, too many possibilities, too much magic in the world to narrow any person down and say, "There! That's him/her pigeonholed!" Did you know she liked this? Do you know what she said when…? You should have seen her face when…!
I'll never forget my sister Annie (she died a little while back at eighty) telling me that when she was a young girl she came into the house one evening and heard my father and mother laughing together as though their sides were going to split. I found it astonishing then and, even as I write this, I find myself almost smiling in unbelief. The history between my father and mother is too painful to rehearse but here was proof of a time when these two looked at each other and burst into laughter they just couldn't control. There's something about that vision; of those two falling all over one another, crying with laughter—and I don't understand quite what it is—something that makes me want to think that anything's possible.
I don't know exactly where I'm going with this but it occurs to me that I'm looking forward to the day when all the needless limitations are removed and people are able to be and be seen to be the persons God created them to be as they develop more and more into rich lovely humans in the image of God. I'm looking forward to seeing what this person or that person has become, to see the glory they were made for as the companions of God in a world reigned over by Jesus Christ and in which they share dominion with him. Is that not exciting—truly exciting—or am I just kidding myself? I can hardly wait to see myself a lot more grown and fine to be around—surely that's long overdue!
©2004 Jim McGuiggan. All materials are free to be copied and used as long as money is not being made.
Many thanks to brother Ed Healy, for allowing me to post from his website, the abiding word.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment