The week after George Mason died, I met community like I’ve never experienced before. While I was lying numb in a hospital bed, my house got cleaned. While I was in too much pain to care for my living toddler, she was loved on so well. And while I knew that honoring our son was important and necessary, I couldn’t find it in me to move forward past that knowledge. So my community, the people that God placed in our lives so specifically, put together the most sincere and humbling service. Every last detail was considered and thoughtfully arranged. I didn’t have to face the harsh reality of loss over and over as I managed the logistics of a funeral. Instead, I got to show up and grieve. To cry with those who loved and love our son along side us. They even scouted out the perfect spot to watch the sunset over the mountains as we worshipped in celebration of the life of our little man. And then it rained. There was no sunset. There were instead the splashing of rain drops on the sidewalk and the giggles of all the soon to be big sisters. There was no sunset, and on that day I was awfully mad about it, but the weather didn’t matter. Because our community was there and they were every bit as warm and comforting as those last orange rays before the sun drops below the mountainous horizon.
Even the words spoken at the service were a display of our community and just how deep and wide the love of God reaches and His church extends. Because they knew and loved our son, the conversations with us and with God were so special. I cried tears of joy and sorrow on that day. In the rain, on a hill, in recovery, God sent His people to love on and care for us in only the way that God could. After the service I asked our friend and pastor to send me the words of the homily. God gave him those words because He knew I was going to need them. Not just on that day, but on so many days since and so many more in the future. God’s Love for us is greater than death. God’s Love for George Mason is so much greater than death. While death looks and feels big to us, it is small compared to God’s Love for us in Christ. They hit my heart so perfectly on that day and I wanted to remember them. I knew that I wouldn’t, and I wanted to be able to read them when it felt like George Mason was so far away. And when I was too angry with God to realize just how much He loves me and loves my son. I’ve gone back and read those words often. They are comforting and they are also wonderfully poignant. And last year I was gifted a framed calligraphy print of those very same words. It arrived in the mail today and I couldn’t be more excited to hang them on the wall in our new home.