Last Night: Grief to Joy

My mother's funeral included a musical presentation few expected: her son sang at his own mother's funeral.

When people found out I was planning to sing, several asked me if I was sure I wanted to do that. Won't that be hard? We could get someone else to sing the songs you want.

A co-worker I've known for over 30 years was at the funeral. She's a nominal Catholic and I noticed she had a look of amazement on her face while my wife I were up front singing. A few days later, at work, she stopped by my office and told me how much she appreciated our singing.

"I don't know how you did that without losing it in the middle of singing," she said, "but I could tell you really believe what you were singing." We sang Amazing Grace/My Chains Are Gone, I Can Only Imagine, and Trading My Sorrows.

The answer to everyone's questions is simple: In the midst of my grief I was feeling the greatest joy possible. My mother, who had suffered in pain for decades, was no longer confined to the wheelchair that had been her prison for years. She had trading her sorrows and pain and shame for glory and grace. While I played my guitar and sang, I imagined her in heaven's grand ballroom, dancing the jitterbug with my dad.

Such joy in times of grief is only possible because Jesus caused His disciples temporary grief while he turned himself over to be crucified.

Jesus saw that they wanted to ask him about this, so he said to them, “Are you asking one another what I meant when I said, ‘In a little while you will see me no more, and then after a little while you will see me’?  Very truly I tell you, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy.  A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world.  So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy. (John 16:19-22)