Today as our church buries one of our own, I am reflecting on the seasons of life. We do not get to choose how we come into this world or (usually) how or when we exit; these are simply seasons of this life.
One dies, another is born.
One suffers, another celebrates.
In the midst of struggle, someone is victorious.
One of the strangest things to contemplate is how life goes on, unaffected. When a funeral falls on a sunny day... (I vividly remember the bright blue sky on the day of Troy Simpson's funeral, which turned out to be a horrific day in the life of our country - September 11, 2001). A wedding party takes pictures in a park, while businessmen rush by, needing to finish up Friday's work (on Saturday), oblivious to the celebration happening in front of them. A funeral procession comes by, and traffic stops (or doesn't stop) and drivers wonder, "Who was that? Maybe someone I knew?"
And life goes on.
If this world were all there was, I think I would be overwhelmed with grief. Life would be meaningless; even the greatest legacy we could leave would not be enough. But this world is not all there is, and for that I am grateful.