I whisper a final good-bye to my beloved last Friday on a windy cemetery hill . . . temporarily. But Because He Lives I can face tomorrow and have the blessed assurance I’ll see him again and forever.
Our pastor John has a way of eulogizing a life into a gospel-word. The word for Jeff is beloved. Jeff may not have always thought that word was fitting. Sometimes the weight of our story is too much to read.
Our son-in-law Scott and grandson Japheth create a resting place with hands and heart and the casket blesses the people . . . beloved. Grandchildren sing of a circle that will be unbroken even after we fly away . . . beloved. And sons and daughters testify of a man who left a loving mark on their life . . . beloved. Then there is the Body of Christ that carries the ones left behind . . . beloved.
So Pastor John chose well – the title of Jeff’s story, and mine, and yours . . .
Accepted in the Beloved – the Easter story.
When life hits hard and a death sentence seemingly comes one letter at a time, how beloved do you believe you are– really?
We can know that we have the Father’s grace and kind attention, no matter how it appears to others. And we can know there is a loving mystery that uses it all to draw us to the deep place of His presence. We can know.
In His presence – that’s where my beloved dwells – between the shoulders of the Father and the chosen is no longer a fatherless boy – he is held tight and secure.
And so are we . . . because of His dying and rising.
May the beloved of the Lord dwell in security by Him who shields him all the day. And he dwells between His shoulders. Deuteronomy 33:12