Our church was
blessed and privileged to have the Singletarys visiting, speaking and preaching
this last weekend.
Their visit reminded
me of a story told by Bro. Singletary a couple of years ago which became a
treasured memory in the last four years.
Bro. Singletary:
"We were heading
to the country of Chile in a few days to visit a missionary friend there.
Just before we left, a man whom we knew asked a favor of us. He
asked if we would visit a grave site while we were in the country.
More than twenty-five
years before, he and his wife had been missionaries in Chile. His wife
was about to have their baby when she became sick with a fever. The child
was born and lived just a few days. His wife, also, lived only a short
time after the birth and passed away. The missionary had been sick with
the fever as well. He made a simple casket out of pine for his wife and
one for the child, but he was so ill that he could not attend their small
funeral.
The missionary had
never seen his wife's gravesite, and he wished that I would visit the place and
take a picture to bring back for him.
It was not a pleasant
task, and I almost regretted agreeing to take the picture.
A few days into our
visit in Chile, we found a young boy to act as a guide and take us up to the
grave site. We had to walk along a little, overgrown path through
something of a jungle to get there.
When we finally
reached the cemetery, we could see that there were a few large, beautifully
decorated grave stones. Scattered around them, there were some smaller
head stones with inscriptions on them. Then, our guide brought us over to
a corner of the field where he said the "poor" were buried.
Here, the graves were
stacked one on top of the other with nothing but a small stone placed in front
of each one to note who was buried there. We searched for a few minutes
until we found the stone with the right name on the plate.
In my heart, I wondered
at this small crypt that held what was left of one who had been loved.
How sad that it was so small and that noone had been there to care for
the final resting place of this dear lady. In twenty-five years, not a
single person had brought flowers or removed the weeds around this stone. The
boy had a card and he used it to wipe away the cobwebs and branches that had
grown over the nameplate. Under the woman's name a few words were written
in Spanish which we could not read.
The boy translated
for us, 'Absent from the body, present with the Lord.'
I thought for a
moment, and then I realized I had been very wrong. If her husband had
been there to see her buried... If her family had come every single day
for the last twenty-five years to lay flowers on her grave and care for the
site... All of this would not have made one bit of difference to her at
all.
She was not there!
She was in Heaven, and she was infinitely better off than any place on
earth, much less a gravesite. She was with her Lord."
One of the greatest
joys I have received in the last four years is the practical realization that I can and
must live my life looking Heavenward. What a blessing to live in the
light of a loving Savior and with the knowledge that I will see my Mom
again...in Heaven.
While riding in the
car together, my mom and I often listened to this song over and over and over.
I got to where I could rewind the cassette to the exact spot where the
song began. Divine Foresite, no doubt.
"Someday Heaven's gates will swing open.
Redeemed of all ages shall see
The Throne sending bright rays of glory
On a mansion, that's built for me,
The Tree of Life there by the Crystal River,
And Mother who was saved by God's Grace.
With all loved ones gone on before us,
Won't Heaven be a glad happy place?
Heaven (happy home above)
Heaven (land of peace and love)
Oh, it makes me feel like traveling on
Heaven (supernal), Heaven (eternal)
I'm so glad it's real."
