Burying Andrew

Today, I will officiate at the funeral of a 20-year-old man who died as the result of an automobile accident. Just writing that sentence sends a flood of emotions and thoughts through me.

20-year-old man. I know the law says it's true, but it's hard to think of Andrew as a man. He had just started life...just started to figure things out. And yet, right now, as I sit on my easychair, thousands of 20-year-old men and women (and even younger) are risking their lives for me in our armed forces. Today, some may die. Some may be seriously wounded. All will have given at least a day at home with their family. As I approach the casket, I will remember.

Funeral. How do you bury someone who is 20? My oldest son is 10. No doubt as Andrew's parents look into the casket, they will see their little boy. This has to be the most unnatural thing in the world, burying your child. As I tuck my sons into their beds tonight, I will remember how short life can be. And I'll linger, at least a moment longer.

Accident. They happen every day. And sometimes people die because of them. But I've never found an answer to the question that plagues every mind...Why? I've also come to the place at being at peace with not having an answer to that question, at least when other people are asking. God, give me the grace to be at peace with no answer when I'm asking.

Today, I will officiate at the funeral of a 20-year-old man who died as the result of an automobile accident. What an honor. What a burden. What an opportunity to point people to Jesus, the one who alone can provide rest for troubled souls.