Wednesday, January 9, 2008


I've been working at our church for 7 months now and it's still so strange to be carrying on about my day, and pass through the lobby, glance into the Worship Center en route to the restroom and at the end of the aisle will be a cakset. Opened ones, especially. I've been to plenty of open-casket funerals, but I think you could go to one every day of your life and still never be comfortable around a deceased body.

But being at work, where hundreds of kids are walking to the cafeteria for lunch, passing through the hallways on their way to their next class or heading outside to the playground and then glancing over to witness a funeral in progress just seems so... out of place. It feels really disrepectful. That's somebody's son or brother or Dad or best friend. And here we are, justing carrying on as usual while so many others are distraught with grief.

As we took our kids out to the playground we actually had to use the doors the hearse was parked outside of. The funeral procession wrapped all the way down and around the playground. Surprisingly, not a single child asked what was going on (this has happened before and, surprisngly, no one asked then either). Although they all seem very comfortable with the idea of dying. They love to talk about their pets, grandparents, and sadly even a big sister who have passed away. I wish we could all hold on to that innocent, unsuspecting, rapid-healing vision of life's sad moments. To be a child again, and be fixed with a tickle, a band-aid and a round of Candyland...

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