There is a reason the title of this post makes you scratch your head in wonder. Let me explain.
This summer I had the honor of attending the visitation of someone dear to my church congregation. Someone who had been a member of the church his whole life, and whose children and grandchildren still attend.
Grief aside, "visiting" death is good for the heart and soul.
It gives life to the senses, and gives the sensible a reality check ruler with which to measure life.
(And hopefully knocks some sense into the senseless.)
There is nothing more sobering than to look upon a bodily vessel, lovingly formed by the grace of God, which has now been emptied of its most valued contents.
After I left the visitation at my church, I drove across the street to my children's school, which was having its annual rummage sale. I marveled as I wandered around the aisles of stuff that filled the gymnasium.
Here were the old discards,
the cheap, and
sometimes even dirty,
items of our lives.
While, across the street, the family of a man was celebrating the gift of his life.
and eternally valued.
Never had the span of a street given me such a juxtaposition of life.
It was weird being in that gymnasium, which I originally thought would bring on my usual bargain shopping buzz.
My heart, at that moment, much preferred the somber visitation room, which created a more meaningful buzz inside me -- one based on hope, peace and salvation.