Season of Blessing (41 page)

C
HAPTER

Eighty

As the funeral
began, and the full choir of the church sang “Because He Lives,” anger swirled up in David's heart. The funeral was supposed to be about Sylvia, a woman so many in this room mourned. He couldn't fathom why they would put so much emphasis on Jesus. The fact that Harry had prayed for that very thing baffled him.

When Annie got up to speak, his anger faded. He knew that she would talk about Sylvia rather than the God she believed in.

She looked as if she'd been crying for days, but as she got behind the podium, she stood like a portrait of poise and maturity.

“I spent a year with Miss Sylvia and Dr. Harry in Nicaragua,” Annie began, her voice wobbling. “And as I was trying to decide which things to tell you about her, and which to leave out, I realized that there was too much for me to choose. We'd be here all day. So instead I e-mailed León, and asked that the children of the Missionary Children's Home, the orphanage where she worked, e-mail me back with the things they wanted you to know about the woman they called Mama Sylvia. Here's what they said.”

She began to read the heartfelt notes—translated into English—from children of all ages, telling how Mama Sylvia had taken them in when they were alone and frightened, how she'd loved them when they grieved over parents killed in the hurricane, how she'd taught them and nurtured them. Every single note spoke of how she had led them to Jesus, and how they knew they would see her again. The final note, dictated by a six-year-old boy named Juan, came like a blow to David's heart.

“All I can say now is, ‘Please, Jesus. Hurry up and come. Take me there, too, so I can see Mama Sylvia's smile again. And you, because you're the reason for her smile.'”

Tears stung David's eyes, and he looked back at his wife. Brenda sat between Tory and Cathy, holding their hands and weeping. Her heart was broken, but the tears weren't angry or bitter. She grieved without despair, just as Harry did.

When Harry got up and went to the podium, David sat straighter, watching, listening.

“My wife…” Harry stopped and cleared his throat. Finally, he went on. “My wife planned her funeral. She told me who she wanted to preach it, who she wanted to speak, who she wanted to sing. She had very specific instructions.”

He stopped and brought a handkerchief to his nose. “A few days before her death, she asked me to bring the tape recorder to her room. She had some things she wanted to say to all of you. So here…in her own voice, and her own words, is my wife's message.”

He went back to his seat and wiped his eyes, stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket.

David glanced at Brenda again. Her face looked stricken as she waited for the tape to begin.

Then David heard the hiss of the tape. He stared down at his hands, listening.

“Hello, friends.”

It was as if she stood in the room with them, standing at the microphone, her smile lighting up the place.

“When you hear the rumors of my death, don't you believe them.”

He looked up, frowning, and locked eyes with the picture of her on her casket.

“By the time you hear this, I will be in the presence of Jesus. I'll be free of this sick, earthly body, and I'll be laughing with more joy than I've ever known on earth. And I've had lots of joy. John 16:22 says, ‘Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.'

“So don't cry for me. Remember the happy times, the times when God worked in our lives, when he taught us precious lessons, when he used us together. Remember the best moments.”

David met Brenda's eyes, and wished he could be beside her.

“And think ahead to that day, not so far from now, when I'll be there to greet you, as you come home, too.

“Harry, I can't express how much I've loved you. God chose you for me when we were very young, and you have been a model to me of how much Christ loves me. My love for you has not died. It remains and lives on.

“Sarah, what a beautiful daughter you've been, and what a precious mother. You're my treasure, and my hope. Everything I had I put into you. I can't wait to see all your crowns when you get here. Gary, take good care of her and little Breanna, and all those other children that you and Sarah will have.

“Breanna, know that your grandma loves you. You won't have memories of me, so let me tell you what's important to know, and what I want you to tell all the other grandchildren yet to come. Tell them that my life was worth it. Everything, all of it, was worth it, because of the unsurpassed joy that Christ has on the other side.

“Jeff, my son, my precious boy…You're a man after God's own heart, and I'm so proud of you. Someday you'll marry and have children, too, and though I won't be there to see them, I'll be ready to make up for lost time when they get here.

“To my dear neighbors, and my very closest friends in the world, I've loved you so much.”

David felt tears ambushing him, catching in his throat, pulling at his face. He closed his eyes.

“Cathy and Steve, God has brought the two of you together, and joined your two families. You've been joined for a purpose, all of you. I pray that you'll learn the art of dying to yourself, living for each other, and bearing much fruit for the Lord who gives you everything you need.

“Annie, you were right all those months ago. When God lit up our path that day, he was telling me that he would light my way. I know you're thinking that my prediction didn't come true, that I'll never dance at your wedding. But when Christ comes to get his Bride, I'll be with him. I'll see you in that white gown, after all.”

Annie covered her face and pressed a wad of tissue to her eyes.

“Mark and Rick, you're turning into such godly young men. You'll be wonderful fathers and husbands some day. I'm so proud of both of you. And Tracy, what a precious child. I know you'll grow into a godly woman.

“Tory and Barry…”

Next to David, Barry leaned his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into his hands.

“Your faith has grown so much in the last few years. The Lord has done mighty things in your lives. I know he'll continue those mighty works. I know that your children will grow to become people of God—Brittany and Spencer, and even little Hannah, who will one day invite Jesus into her heart. There's no doubt in my mind. Always remember to have the simple faith of that little child, and you can't go wrong.

“And Brenda and David…”

David looked up, staring through his tears at that picture again. It was as if Sylvia's eyes were fixed on him.

“What a dear family you have, and God has done amazing works in your lives. I expect multitudes to know Jesus, because of Joseph's sweet, priceless heart, and Daniel, Leah, and Rachel's abiding faith. Brenda, you've done a wonderful job with them. Never let the worries of the world interfere with your life's work.

“Joseph, I want you to have Midnight. Dr. Harry and I have arranged for you to keep her at a stable nearby. Her rent and food are paid for for the next five years. I think God meant her for you all along…”

David smiled and looked at his son, saw that Joseph smiled through his tears.

“And David…”

He snapped his gaze back to the picture.

“David, I want you to know that God does exist, and he loves you. I want to see you in heaven, David. I want to see the joy in your eyes as you walk down the streets of gold and behold the light of the Lord's glory. All of your family will be there. David, don't be left behind.”

It was as though a stake had been driven through his heart, killing something inside him, crushing the core of who he believed himself to be. From Sylvia's perspective, he was an incomplete man, a man who hid from obvious truth, a man with a void the shape of hope in his heart.

He couldn't stop himself as grief—for Sylvia, but even more for himself—conquered him completely. He set his elbows on his knees and dropped his face. Barry straightened beside him and touched his shoulder. Daniel patted his knee.

The rest of the service went by in a blur, as the preacher gave a message that once again pointed to Christ rather than Sylvia.

Someone sang, someone read a poem…

But none of it registered in his mind. All he could hear was Sylvia's voice ringing in his ears.
David, don't be left behind
.

He pictured that day, when his family went to heaven and greeted Sylvia again. Joseph, running and jumping in some divine meadow, Leah and Rachel glowing like angels, Daniel rejoicing, Brenda laughing and laughing and laughing…

But he was not in that picture. Like the night they had all headed off for the program at church, the program that he'd almost missed, he would be left out.

David, don't be left behind
.

The pallbearers stood, and shaking himself out of his reverie, he stood with them. Leaving the casket where it was for now, they filed out of the room. Harry and the family, and Brenda, Tory, Cathy, and the kids all lined up behind them and left the room.

He couldn't talk to anyone, couldn't look in their eyes, couldn't make small talk about what a wonderful service it had been. Instead he went into the rest room, bent over the sink, and splashed water on his face. Slowly, he dried it off, and looked at his reflection in the mirror.

David, don't be left behind
.

He left the bathroom, and went back into the sanctuary. It was empty now, except for the casket. Sylvia's picture had been taken down, but the autumn flowers still draped across its lid.

Tears that seemed to come from some aged place in the deepest part of his soul rushed up to drown him, and he twisted his face and let it go.

Slowly, he fell to his knees at the altar behind the casket.

“David?” It was Harry's voice behind him, and he looked up at the man who should have been the one doubled over in grief.

He started to rise up. “Harry, I'm so sorry…”

“It's okay.” Harry knelt beside him. “Talk to me, David.”

David tried to stop the slide of his anguish. “What she said on that tape…”

Harry smiled. “Tough stuff, huh? It was very serious business to her. Your salvation has been on her heart for a very long time. Just as it's been on Brenda's.”

David didn't know how so many tears could be pouring from his eyes, while his throat seemed so dry. “Harry, I saw a picture of heaven in my mind during the funeral. And I wasn't there.” He sucked in a sob and wiped the tears from his face.

Finally, he looked Harry in the eye. “Harry, I don't want to be left behind.”

Out in the church foyer, Brenda searched the faces of the departing mourners for David. Soon they would be loading the casket into the hearse, and the cars would line up for their procession to the grave site.

She knew he was upset. She'd watched his profile as Sylvia spoke directly to him, and she'd seen the pain on his face. As much as she wanted Sylvia's words to penetrate his heart, she hated the thought that he was hurting or embarrassed, somewhere alone.