Someday Roses Will Have No Thorns

I attended another family funeral today. This time it was for my first cousin George, son of Dad's sister Elsie. George, four years younger than me, died from multiple health problems exacerbated by infections from a burst appendix.

As I watched his 3 year old grand niece, grand-daughter of his sister Zelphia, happily chattering away at everyone she met at the funeral parlor, with her security blanket wrapped around her neck, I decided that children should be mandatory at funerals. We all need the reminder that life goes on, even in the face of death. Perhaps funeral homes should offer to rent a kid for families that can't provide their own. Yes, I'm joking, but you could probably make money doing it!

I did not know George well, and had not seen him in years, but, based on a poem he had written that was read at the service, he had a vibrant Christian faith. The poem expressed hope in eternal resurrection, using a metaphor of a rose that whithers in winter but blossoms again in spring. Only one day, said the poem, the roses will have no thorns, thanks to the work of the Lord of Roses. Good Job, George! I look forward to discussing that thought with you someday.

"When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: 'Death is swallowed up in victory.' O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" (I Cor 15:54-55 ESV)