You know that feeling you get when someone is hurting and you just want to HELP? That pull to try to ease the pain that a fellow human being is feeling?
That very pull has gotten me involved in coordinating a (small) part of sweet Jack's funeral. I have never been one to get very involved prior to this...but you know what? It feels good. It feels right. It feels like I actually AM helping, in a very small way.
I had a conversation with a complete stranger tonight. I could tell by her voice that she had many more years of experience on this earth that I had, she was wise and warm and kind and I immediately felt at ease talking with her.
She and I talked "business" at first, then shared what our mother's hearts were feeling. The tragedy, the hurt, the knowledge that a family in our church is living every parent's worst nightmare.
She has 5 children. I have 5 children. She shared with me something that gave me goosebumps...she told me that as she and her husband stood marveling over their first born, in utter awe and wonderment and completely over the moon with him, that she said to her husband, "He's ours!"
And her husband quietly replied, "He's only ours to take care of."
Jack's mom said essentially the same thing in a CaringBridge post when she said that she believes Jack was "on lease" to her from God.
Our children are a gift from God. "On lease" from Him. Entrusted to us by Him.
"They're just ours to take care of."