And Sarah died at Kiriath-arba (that is, Hebron) in the land of Canaan, and Abraham went in to mourn for Sarah and to weep for her. (Genesis 23:2)
I’ll never forget the first time I got the news that one of my friends had died. Afterward, I was tasked with calling my mom and letting her know. I honestly don’t know which was worse, giving that news or receiving it. The truth about that experience, though, is that I saw everyone around me in slow motion. There’s a way that death brings clarity to what truly matters. For Abraham, as he worked to get Sarah’s affairs in order, nothing mattered more than honoring his late wife in burial. There’s a distinct privilege that comes with caring for loved ones after they pass. Our final acts of love that we get to express to them come in the form of small details and tears.
I’m curious about what kinds of “home movies” were playing in the back of Abraham’s mind as he sought to bury Sarah. The sounds of Isaac’s birth, the conversations during each of their journeys together, and the moments of laughter, disappointment, and prayer woven through their story. I wonder what emotions were tied to those memories. As he’s sifting through her things, what was coming up for him? Maybe the promises that God spoke to them were echoing back to him.
Death is a thin place. The way that grief softens our hearts causes us to recognize where we’re at and where we’ve been. In my experience, the Lord seems so much nearer in the midst of mourning. When our hearts are cracked open before God, His truth finds us less resistant.
Though death was no part of God’s original plan, I’d suggest that He uses it to meet us exactly where we are. In the tenderness of pain and grief, I think we’re more apt to recognize hope and to cling to it.
Friend, my prayer is that even in the midst of pain, you would encounter the God who knows you and loves you.
Kassie Lowe
Young Adults Lead