And then I thought of the grief. The grief those families experienced as they journeyed through the passing of a loved one. Grief that, too often, I have naively assumed passed after a couple of weeks. After all, I mourned when my dad died. And I mourned when Beverly's dad died. But I have never known grief. Not like this.
Since Jenny's death, I have heard about a teen who died in a ski accident. And a young woman who died in a car crash. Yesterday I stood at the grave of a 17-year old girl who died a couple of years ago in a car crash while on her way to school one morning. And there was the 32-year old man who ran a half-marathon Sunday, got to the finish line and high-fived his friend, and fell over. He died minuted later. He left a wife and two kids.
In the past, I would have thought for a moment about those young lives taken. While I did that in these situations, too -- immediately my thoughts went to the families. Oh, what grief!
Paul asked, "O death, where is your sting?" I can tell him. It is piercing the hearts of people who loose a loved one. Oh, I know that through Jesus, the sting has been ultimately removed. But it sure feels like a swarm of killer bees right now.